Page 71 of A Not So Merry Rescue
He raises a brow. “Even after unlocking all those words yesterday?”
“A fluke, I’m sure.”
“Ah. We could do it again tonight. I have something I can’t get out of, but after dinner at my parents, my top agenda item is discovering what’s under your clothing and completely free for anything else.”
My cheeks flame hotter. “Beckett,” I hiss, lowering my voice. “This is not appropriate lunch chatter. In a public place.”
He leans in closer, motioning for me to do the same. “It would be inappropriate for me to ask to see them at lunch. Talking about it is on the table.”
“It’s all inappropriate at lunch.” He’s got me all hot and bothered, feelings that have laid dormant until a few days ago. I want nothing more than to act on them, but this isn’t the place. “Save the foreplay for the cabin.”
“Ever done it in public?” Straight-faced and even toned, he poses the question. Like he was asking if he needed an umbrella if it was raining.
I survey the cafe. The tables aren’t close enough together for other patrons to hear us in our hushed tones.But still, I make sure only Beckett can hear me. “How public is considered public?”
“Outside the house. In a parking lot. Where people might see.”
“Yes to a parking lot. No to the last one.”
Beckett rests back against the booth, his arms crossing overhis chest. “Interesting. Was the parking lot crowded? Any chance for people to look in?”
I swallow. “No.”
“Did you feel scandalous?”
“So much,” I deadpan.
Beckett rolls his eyes. “How about at a make-out spot? Where people go to have sex.”
“No. Too much of a chance to get caught there, of it getting back to my parents. My mother would have a conniption.”
“Nice word choice. So, you were always the good girl?”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Hardly. But with things that might tarnish my mother’s reputation, I was.”
“Gotcha. And this parking lot sex. Was that Elias?”
“Nope. He was more of an ‘in the house’ kind of guy.” It’s a bit awkward talking about my past sex life with Beckett, but it’s less awkward in public than if he were to bring this up in the bedroom. Don’t ask me why because I won’t have an answer.
“Adding it to my agenda for later.”
“Um, should I be afraid to ask what ‘it’ is?”
“Afraid? No. Intrigued? Definitely.”
Justine delivers our meals, prompting a brief pause in our conversation. “Can I get you anything else at the moment?”
“Drink refills, please.” The smile she sends Beckett’s way has more wattage than before, yet he’s oblivious to it.
“You got it.” She’s back in two minutes, long enough for me to sample the soup.
“This is delicious,” I compliment.
Justine beams, her attention on me for the briefest moment. “I’ll let the chef know. Enjoy.” She flitters away again, and Beckett splits the sandwiches so we get one half of each.
“Dip the grilled cheese in the soup. You won’t regret it. And eat those first. The other sandwich isn’t hot.”
If his command wasn’t rational, I’d fight it, but it makes sense.
