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“But I have to start—”
“The sun’s not even up.” He waggled his eyebrows menacingly. “And I’ve got the car keys.”
She glared up at him. “You’re holding me hostage?”
“Yes.” He challenged her with a what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it stare. Five seconds later, the soft beauty of her eyes emasculated his stare, and he lowered his head, unable to keep from kissing her.
God, he was a sap. She deserved to win that one. Except instead of celebrating his capitulation, she wound her arms around his neck and responded eagerly.
Minutes later, he discovered all over again that it was virtually impossible to stop kissing Chris once he’d started. Every time he pulled back, he’d catch sight of her lips and think of another spot he might not have tasted enough. Or he’d catch her looking as if she were about to speak, or tensing as if she wanted to move, and he’d have to nip that in the bud in case she suggested they get out of bed.
He’d desired women before, but never with this combination of lust and tenderness, or with such an awareness of the soul within the body. He’d always prided himself on not having a scoring mentality, but this was a whole new dimension of feeling.
It thrilled him that Chris was back, in all her fiery overachiever glory and passion. He’d like to think he had something to do with that.
But with Ames likely to get a job offer this week, Chris’s immersion in this new project meant Zac might not have enough time before she left for New York to convince her she belonged with him.
11
“THANKS VERY MUCH.” Chris punched off the phone in her office and pumped a fist in the air. The Valentine’s event, conceived way too late to pull it off, was nevertheless on its way to being pulled off. The Tribune was sending someone out to interview her tomorrow, and the story would run Wednesday, plenty of time for some coffee-loving man—or maybe a woman—to make plans to propose at Slow Pour.
All Chris needed to make the event a success was one couple. She had no illusions that a coffee shop was the ultimate make-lifetime-memories place. But someone would go for it, maybe a couple who’d been living together for a while, for whom the commitment to marriage would be a mutual decision, not a surprise ooh-he-popped-the-question moment. After all, free coffee for a year added up to decent savings; the engaged couple could take a honeymoon cruise somewhere and only pay for one ticket with the amount of money they saved on coffee. Not bad. Chris would be sure to mention that in the interview.
She couldn’t believe things were going so well. After realizing that what she really wanted and needed was this friends-with-benefits relationship with Zac, she seemed to grow calm and steady all on her own. No longer did she have to breathe consciously in order to regain control of her emotions or mood. Nor did she have to force herself to try to accept something she wasn’t predisposed to accept. Colors suddenly seemed brighter, the air fresher—gosh, could you believe it, chirping cartoon birds followed her wherever she went!
Okay, now she was just being ridiculous.
Bottom line: instead of having to work at finding calm, it now seemed to come from inside her. It was a different calm, too. She felt more alive and energized, filled with a deep joy. Maybe Eva was right and she had been depressed before.
All she knew was that this felt absolutely wonderful. She had spent the most erotic, passionate, fantastic night of her life on Friday and well into Saturday, in a beachfront cabana in a private cove—who ever got to do that?—with Zac, and she still felt entirely stable and in control. She wasn’t worried about whether he’d call her or not, she had no need to wonder where this relationship was going... It was all so perfect.
When the inevitable happened and Eva called to tell her Ames had gotten a job offer, which might happen very soon, she’d be able to say goodbye to Zac and go home to New York renewed and refreshed.
She couldn’t ask for anything better.
Her cell phone rang. It was Zac.
A warm thrill coursed through her. “Hey, there.”
“Hello.”
That’s all it took. One word in that deep voice, and she was a Krispy Kreme doughnut—all jelly inside.
