Page 4 of Curves and Cradles

“But you are? Single?” Kevin asks.

The waitress arrives with our drinks; my chocolate milkshake and Kevin’s soda.

“I am. I mean, I’ve dated. Blake and I broke up a long time ago, but I haven’t had a significant relationship since. In truth, I don’t have time to date with my job and my family. I teach literature at the high school and sponsor several after-school clubs.” My life isn’t glamorous, but that’s me. I love my job, the kids, and the books I teach them to enjoy.

He watches me pull the cherry from the stem, his eyes darkening. “Tell me about them.”

“Which part?”

“All of it. Start with your name,” he says.

“Jane Seymour.”

His brows rise. “Seriously?”

I grin. “It gets worse. Okay, so my parents are big movie buffs. Their first date was to seeRomancing the Stone.” I tilt my head. “Do you know that movie?”

“Sure.”

“Anyway, they named their first two kids, the twins, Michael Douglas Seymour and Kathleen Turner Seymour.”

He laughs, and the sound is pure magic, deep and rich. It simultaneously makes me smile and my pussy quiver.

“So, Jane Seymour liketheJane Seymour?” he asks.

The waitress brings our food, and he dives into his burger. I pick up a fry, swipe it through my thick chocolate shake, and pop it into my mouth. “Yes, like that Jane Seymour. Basically, she was my grandma Stella’s favorite actress, and Grandma Stella died two weeks before I was born.” I chew thoughtfully. “I’ve always felt this kinship with her, even though I never met her.” I shrug and dip another fry.

“What is happening right there?” he asks, pointing to my shake-dipped fry.

“You’ve never tried fries in a chocolate shake? Oh, Kevin, you haven’t lived.” I lean forward and offer him the fry, which he obediently takes.

“Interesting,” he murmurs after chewing.

“That’s it?”

“I’m considering it. I’m not usually a love-at-first-bite kind of guy. So, any other famous Seymour children running around?”

“Nope, just the three of us. How about you?”

His jaw tightens, but he shakes his head. “Only me.”

We eat in silence for the rest of our meal, but I smile every time he leans over and dips a fry in my shake.

“I have to put on my Dress Whites and go to my best friend’s mother’s funeral tomorrow.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Not something I’m looking forward to. But tonight,” his blue eyes meet mine, and I swear molten lava swirls through my stomach. Is this what happens to every woman he looks at? Is this his secret superpower?

Able to melt panties with a single glance.

“Tonight, I’d like to take you back to my hotel and find at least three different ways to make you scream my name.”

I swallow and find myself nodding.

“I like you, Jane Seymour. You’re quirky and funny and cute. The kind of girl a man likes to come home to when he returns stateside. And your kisses seem to have a direct line to my cock. So, what do you say?”

“Because you’re into me, or you haven’t been with a woman in a long time ’cause you’ve been off fighting wars?” I ask before I think better of it.

His blue eyes meet mine, and at that moment, I know it doesn’t matter. The fire burning in his eyes is intense and seductive, and I want to straddle and ride him like the stallion he is.

I lift a hand and shake my head. “Scratch that. I don’t care. Forget I asked. And yes, let’s go and do all of those things you just said.” Why, oh why, am I always so damned awkward? Seriously, if I could rein in my mouth, life would be infinitely easier.

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