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“Yes. Your red wine cake is so delicious that Chase decided to wear it.”
“Funny,” he growled, and even that sound slid down my spine and turned my legs into a puddle of goo, which should have warned me to back away, to give him my fabric stain pen and go about my day.
“I’m sorry about the stain, but I’m thrilled you loved it. Please don’t go just yet,” she begged and rushed away once again.
“I can’t sit here with a giant stain Carlotta, I have afternoon meetings today.”
“Fine. Go hide out in the car while I finish up here.” I offered Chase my keys and shooed him out the door, because goodness gracious, the man could short circuit a brain without even trying. It really wasn’t fair, just as it wasn’t fair that I was suddenly noticing that the good mayor was a man. A big, fine, delicious man.
Madeline returned with a sheepish smile. “I overheard you talking about bacon, sorry-not-sorry for eavesdropping, and I thought this might be up your bride’s alley. It’s devil’s food cake with whiskey, maple bacon frosting. Take it to go,” she insisted and handed me the bag. “There’s a big slide for the bride as well.”
I smiled. “I like the way you think Madeline, and I think you and I are going to have a wonderful working relationship.”
“Fingers crossed,” she said and waved me off.
The ride back to my place was mostly quiet but companionable, both of us lost in our thoughts, and much of mine were centered on the man beside me. Was this just hormones? Too much time passed without sex? Without being held by a man? Or was this worse, was it genuine attraction to man I’d known most of my life? I didn’t know, which was unique for me, and I shook off the desire—tried to anyway—and focused on the job at hand.
I was a professional event planner, and that’s what this is, a job. An important job, at that. One I couldn’t afford to ignore in favor of a brief fling or whatever was going on between me and Chase.
Without a word we both got out of the car and walked the stone path from my driveway to my house. As soon as we were inside, I made a mad dash for the laundry room, and ran right into Chase on my way, well, back to Chase.
“Sorry,” I said, and I might have said more, but the feel of his hand, big, strong and hot on my waist distracted me. “Take off your shirt.”
He frowned until I pointed to the big deep red stain over his right pec. “Oh. Right. Sorry.” He didn’t need to be sorry, but I knew I would be when he tugged the sweater over his head with one hand to reveal nothing more than a white tank top that—hot damn—showed off every inch of muscle in his arms and shoulders. “Here you go.” Chase held the shirt out to me and I blinked once, twice, maybe five times until I could see something other than his muscles.
“Right. Thanks.” I yanked the shirt from his grip and sought refuge in the laundry room. What right did he have, did any man have, to look so delicious in nothing but a tank? It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair, and I took all of my annoyance, and sexual frustration, out on that wine stain until the dark color started to lighten. “Okay. Good. You’ll be all right,” I muttered to the stain and took three deep breaths before exiting the laundry room again.
When I got to the kitchen I stopped dead in my tracks. Chase was shirtless, completely and totally naked from the waist up. His back was expansive, and every move he made over the kitchen sink showed me different muscles in a new light.
“What are you doing?”
He turned quickly, and as much as I was enjoying the view, I really wished he would have kept his back to me, because the front was equally delicious. He had a light smattering of auburn hair that didn’t hide his small waist, six-pack abs or those dark peach nipples. He was, in a word, magnificent.
“There was some wine on my undershirt too,” he said sheepishly. “Is that okay?”
I kept staring, because when was the last time I saw such a gorgeous man up close and personal like this?
Never, my mind filled in the blanks.
“Carlotta?”
I blinked and shook my head. “Yeah?” The word came out breathless and a bit needy.
“You’re staring.”
I nodded my agreement. “You’re shirtless and…hot.”
He smiled. “Thanks?”
“Why?” I marched across the kitchen and poked him in the chest. “Why are you…why is this? Why are we…?” I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, and it only made me madder so I poked his chest again.
Chase grabbed my wrist to stop the poking and pulled me in close, so close that I could see the stubble sprouting on his shaved jaw.
“I don’t know either,” he said with a smile before his lips met mine in a splendid kiss that was so hot I thought my house would go up in flames with us still in it. His mouth moved, strong and capable, demanding and firm, but just enough that I could pull back if I wanted.
Not that I could even if I’d wanted to. The kiss was exactly what a kiss should be, and I wanted more. I wrapped my arms around his massive shoulders and I pressed myself against him fully, letting the hardness of his masculine form make me feel like a woman.
Chase’s hand went to my backside and squeezed.
