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His gut clenched with desire, and his hand trembled with the urge to strip off her dress, carry her to the bed, and explore every inch of her body with his mouth and his hands.
Unstick the damn zipper and get the hell outta here before you’re the bastard who destroys some other guy’s future.
The gold hoop earring dangling from her lobe swayed as she turned her head forward again. She trained her gaze across the room, throat muscles contracting in a hard swallow before she added, “Besides designing cakes, I have a proposal consulting business.”
He stopped working the zipper, his gaze locked on her profi
le. “A what?”
“I help guys plan the perfect proposal for their girlfriends.”
“Who needs that?”
“Lots of guys,” she retorted, sounding slightly offended as her back stiffened.
Actual words from her comment a few moments ago finally registered. Three proposals in one day.
“In the past two years, I’ve facilitated twenty-three proposals.”
“Anyone ever say no?”
“Once.”
And from the wrinkle of her nose, she hated having that negative in her stats.
But wait a second…this could change everything. His pulse skipped a beat as the puzzle pieces finally fit together to reveal the complete picture. “So, the guys who proposed to you were what…practicing?”
“Exactly.”
“You’re not engaged?”
“Not even once.”
Sounded pleased as punch about it, too. Interesting.
Asher got a better hold on the zipper, this time not worrying at all when his hands brushed against her back. She sucked in another breath, and his pulse kicked up a notch as well, sending a rush of blood straight to his groin.
He ducked his head slightly for a better view—of the zipper. “What about the guy at the wedding?”
“Sam? I was only there to make his ex jealous.”
Hence the public break up scene Roxanna had told him about. “Did it work?”
Dumb question. Of course it worked. Look at her.
“They went out to dinner last night.” Satisfaction filled her voice. “He texted this morning that it went very well.”
“That part of your consulting business, too?”
“Just a favor for a friend.”
The zipper finally let loose, shooting down a couple inches before he could stop the momentum. His hand brushed the curve of her butt when he grasped the material to pull it tight so he could run the zipper up in one smooth motion. It wasn’t until his fingers fumbled to connect the teeny little hook at the top before he was able to step back and draw in a lungful of air—that still smelled like cake.
“All set.” Relief and disappointment warred in his tight chest.
“Thank you.”
The breathless words had him fisting his hands to keep from reaching out for her. All the more difficult to resist now that he knew she wasn’t spoken for by another man—or three.
