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“It has to do with my aspirations and we’re not supposed to talk about those.” He grinned. “Why do you think I read it?”
“Because you have a strong sense of social justice.” She nailed it, but it was an easy guess.
“Yep, that’s me, your social warrior barman.”
All the tables were done, and the cash secured. He wanted her very much. But he also wanted to be sure.
“You’ve been drinking, Dafna. How are you getting home?”
She bit her lower lip and met his eyes.
“With you, you’ll take me,” she answered simply.
He was in over his head with this woman. He locked the bar, and she followed him to his car.
Chapter 4
An Ordinary-looking Hyundai
Dafna followed Erez out of the pub, and he led her to a very ordinary-looking Hyundai.
"What happened to your motorcycle?" The ‘throbbing motorcycle’ picture painted by Orna was quite appealing, and she had looked forward to the experience. His generous mouth thinned before he exhaled and coughed out a laugh.
“Tonight, I have a car.”
She winced at her own idiotic juvenile disappointment.
“Hey! Your car is great. I’m glad. It will be way more comfortable than a motorcycle.”
He opened the door on the passenger side and stood by for her to enter. She paused before getting in, standing close to him, the closest they’d been so far. It could have been her imagination, because of the sea-themed tattoo, but he smelled like salt and sun-kissed warm skin. She took a deep breath, inhaling him. He stared at her lips.
“I haven’t kissed in years.” She heard herself uttering.
His eyes widened. “Why? Don't you like kissing?”
“Yes, I do. My ex was, I mean is, he isn't dead…” Her mouth was running, she could not stop the flow of words. “Well, anyway, he was, is, an amazing kisser.”
His eyebrows shot up. "Right," he said. His jaw was set.
She’d said the wrong thing again.
“I divorced Ilan six years ago, and even before that, we stopped kissing. So, really, any kiss would do.”
The mere proximity of a male torso turned her into a stammering buffoon.
A corner of his mouth turned up. “I see. You have low expectations. Good to know.” A crease appeared between his brows, and he bit his lips. “Dafna…since we're being honest and everything, am I going to be your first sex in six years?”
A weight she didn’t know was there, lifted. It had kept her on edge, having to pretend that she was a femme fatale man-eater. She nodded. His large palm cupped her cheek, the touch coarse and gentle at the same time. She closed her eyes briefly, loving his touch.
“So…tell me,” he had a deep, beautiful voice, “what is it you’re looking for from tonight?”
The question surprised her, since she thought he had it all planned out.
“What are you hoping for tonight?” she deflected. He dropped his hand, and she stared at his strong, afternoon shadowed chin.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” he answered immediately. “And we have chemistry. I think I’ll enjoy myself, if you let yourself enjoy it too.”
But once again, she was on edge because what she wanted was ridiculous. She inhaled his fresh scent again–it had a definite calming effect–and went for broke.
