Page 136 of Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay
“For fear you’d find them and realize that I am embarrassingly, dangerously smitten.”
I kiss his cheek and hold him closer. “Dangerously?”
“Losing my mind. Losing my focus. Losing the last shreds of control.” He presses a gentle kiss to my shoulder.
“I was practically throwing myself at you. Silk sleep sets, remember?”
He trails kisses down my arm. “Because you enjoy watching me suffer.”
“Are you still suffering?”
Mike nods once before kissing the palm of my hand. There’s so much tenderness in his touch, I think my heart might explode. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him deeply. “Good.” I’ll never get over the feel of his lips against mine. “Why didn’t you call?”
“Hmm?” His hands are threaded in my hair again.
“When we first met and ate cookies on Crystal Pier. You never called.”
“Come on, Bea.”
I hold him at arm’s length. “Why?”
“Because you were out of my league. Smart, beautiful, successful. Highly educated. Articulate. A Del Mar heiress.”
“So?”
He brushes the hair out of my face. His fingers linger on my jaw. “So, I was scared.”
“Are you scared now?”
“Terrified, but for completely different reasons.” He interlaces my fingers with his and tugs me toward the door. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“My place. I’m going to make you breakfast.”
“It’s nearly midnight.”
“Doesn’t matter. I need stage action if you want me to talk. I’ll lose my focus if…”
I run my nails gently up the back of his neck, brushing my lips against the corner of his mouth.
He pulls away just long enough to sweep me off my feet. I’m laughing. I’m beaming. I’m leaning in and kissing Mike until we both can hardly breathe.
“Cookies,” he says as he carries me outside. “I’ll make your favorite cookies. Come on.”
The kisses stop the moment Mike carries me into his kitchen. Like crossing the threshold transformed him into a serious, focused chef.
It’s an act. I can see how his gaze lingers on me. Moreover, he can’t stop smiling.
“Everything okay?” I ask, leaning against the fridge.
He attempts to sift the sugar but spills a good portion of it all over the counter. “Never better.”
“It’s just your sugar is off-white and clumpy,” I observe.
“It has no bone char in it.”
“So you’re telling me this is fancy sugar.”
