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He glanced down at her. “Kissing?”
“That. And making me want you to do more than kiss me.”
Grace hadn’t meant to say it, and for the life of her she didn’t know what had spurred her to be so uncharacteristically bold. But she didn’t take it back. Because she did want him. All of him.
His eyes darkened and his fingers tightened. “That kind of talk isn’t going to get you chocolate, Ms. Brighton.”
“No?” she asked. “What’s it going to get me?”
This time when he kissed her, it wasn’t gentle and it wasn’t slow. The kiss was savage and hot, and involved more than a little tongue and even a whistle from a passerby.
“Any other stupid questions?” he asked when they broke apart, both breathing hard. Grace mutely shook her head.
“Okay then.”
Inside the chocolate shop, it was as though the kiss had never happened. Jake let her roam around, ogling everything in sight, and although she protested that she really didn’t need anything, Grace hardly kicked up a fuss when they left the store with a small assortment of macaroons and a box of chocolates that had been flown in from Paris just days before.
“So?” he asked, feeding her a bite of hazelnut macaroon.
Grace closed her eyes as the decadent sugary goodness rolled over her tongue. “I lied before. I don’t need sex. Just hand over the macaroons and the chocolates and slip out the back door.”
Jake snatched the last bite of macaroon out of her hand and held the bag of remaining treats well out of reach. “Okay, then. I think we’ve had just about enough of that.”
Grace laughed, and made a grab for the last nibble of her cookie, but it disappeared into Jake’s mouth.
“Usually decadent desserts get them into my bed,” he grumbled. “They doesn’t replace me in their bed.”
“Oh, so you’ve done this before, huh?” she asked, linking her arm through his and weaving to the left to avoid a heel-snagging grate in the middle of the sidewalk. “This is a common ploy of yours? The French-chocolate-and-French-kiss routine?”
Jake slid one arm around her waist and pulled her to a halt against him as his other hand went up to hail a cab. “This is a first for me, actually.”
He didn’t look at her when he said it, and that made his unexpected comment all the more sweet.
There was no cocky wink or smug smile. Just a quiet confession.
A first …
She liked the thought of being a first for Jake.
Oh no you don’t, Grace 2.0 railed in her brain. This is exactly why I okayed this hanky-panky tonight. Because Jake is not the type of guy who gets involved.
Yeah, yeah. She knew that. Just for fun, no commitment, blah blah blah.
But when the cab pulled to a stop and he asked the inevitable “My place or yours?” her stomach flipped in more than just sexual awareness.
Grace thought 2.0 might be right … she was definitely in over her head.
Chapter Nineteen
“Want a glass of wine?”
“No thanks.”
“Whisky?”
“No,” Grace said. “Do you?”
“I’m good. More chocolate? Another macaroon?”
