Page 29 of New Girl in Town
“I have been told that it’s pretty damn cute,” I replied with mock seriousness as I led the way to my car, but before I could make it far, he caught my hand and stopped me short with a gentle tug. I looked down at our hands and felt a flutter in my stomach.
“Wrong way,” he said when I gave him a questioning look.
I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. “But my car is that way.”
“Yes, but I have a truck. A necessity for the buying and moving of furniture,” he said, intertwining our fingers together, which made it nearly impossible for me concentrate on what he said.
“What?” I asked, pushing away thoughts of how good his warm hand felt holding mine. Grant St. John wielded hand-holding with surgeon-like precision. The man’s hands should have been registered as weapons capable of bringing a woman to her knees.
“It’s not fair when you hold my hand.”
“What?” he asked, giving me an amused look, but he held my hand a little tighter.
“When you hold my hand you make me go stupid.”
“Oh, I do, do I? I’ll file that one away for future use.”
“You shouldn’t look so pleased with yourself,” I said, taking in the smug look on his face.
He lifted a shoulder. “I like you stupid.”
“Excuse me?” I pulled back and he laughed, catching my other hand in his so that he held both of my hands. I’d given the man an inch and he’d doubled down immediately. He used our clasped hands to maneuver me closer to him, my front pressed up to his, our toes touching, so close I had to leaned back and crane my neck up to look at him.
“I mean for me... I like being the one to make you stupid,” he murmured, leaning down so that his lips brushed my cheek.
“You’re outrageous,” I told him, voice indignant but lacking any real heat. He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver through me, and my traitorous body leaned closer to his,.
He turned his head, and this time he planted a kiss against my cheek. “Oh, honey, you like it too.”
I froze, chest tight at that simple kiss. It felt like my heart was too big for my chest, like my blood was hot and singing all at the same time in a dizzying mix that filled my head with images of me turning my head towards him and kissing him. It wouldn’t take much to close the little space between us, and I knew it would be good.
“Maybe a little,” I confessed, turning my head so that this time my lips brushed his chin and he smirked, eyes meeting mine with the type of fire capable of setting California ablaze.
“Not just a little. You like it a lot.” His fingers danced across my skin, and I forced my breath not to hitch.
“That so?”
His fingers tensed on my wrists for a second before he finally let me go, his fingertips skirting up the inside of my wrists before he moved away, taking my hand again.
“Yup. That’s about the measure of things,” he replied as we walked on toward his truck. The air around us was still tense, charged with desire, like a pot of water that had reached boiling and right before it had been about to overflow he had cut the fire to a comfortable simmer. I tilted my head to the side, wondering how much I could concentrate on buying art and furniture I liked if I were set to simmer with Grant.
“What’s that face for?” he asked, opening the passenger door for me.
“I’m wondering how much of a liability you’re going to be today,” I confessed.
He snorted and nudged me forward. “I’m kind of a big deal when it comes to shopping. I’m going to be an asset.”
I gave a little sniff and hopped up into the truck. “Time will tell on that, Mr. St. John,” I told him, and moved to reach for the door handle, but his hand on my thigh had me freezing and staring with wide eyes.
My blood felt like fire and hormones I didn’t even know I possessed came to life. I’d rock his world. I knew it. Then we’d see who was keeping whom stupid with their lethal hands.
“You’re going to need me, sweetheart, because I have plans to keep you stupid the entire time,” he said as if reading my thoughts, and I blushed hot, cheeks stinging from the force of it.
I crossed my arms and leaned back in the seat, doing my best to school my features. “You can’t do that. I need my wits about me, Grant. It’s against the Geneva Convention to do that when I’m trying to make snap shopping decisions,” I said, impressed that my voice only wavered a little.
He leaned close and gave my thigh a squeeze, a touch that forced a soft moan from me surprising us both so much that his hand slipped off the door and he stumbled to the side. He took in a shaky breath and shook a finger at me.
“Not fair,” he rasped in a voice that sounded strangled. His eyes were darker now, pupils blown and eyes hooded in what could only be described as bedroom eyes.
