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Instead, he kept his left around her braid and his right cradling her cheek. Her skin was even softer than he remembered.
“Damned right, I do.” He also wanted her to spend the night under his roof so he could make sure that she was safe, that no reporters hassled her, that her complicated family dynamics didn’t steal focus from the important work she did in counseling troubled kids.
He hadn’t realized until he saw her again on the courthouse steps how deeply the urge to protect her and pleasure her were both still ingrained in him. He regretted not putting her first when they were married. His mistakes were clear to him now, but how could he ever make Lark see that? He’d hurt her enough already, and he refused to do that again. Yet he needed to free himself of that hold she had on him.
Too bad the only way he could envision it happening was if he had the chance to be with her again. To indulge the chemistry until it flared out. To excise the attraction along with the hurt so they could both move on.
“That makes no sense.” Her jaw tensed in his palm as she gritted her teeth.
He knew big league goalies who weren’t as tough as this woman, let alone as stubborn.
“We have things to work out between us, Lark. You know it as well as I do.” He skimmed lower on her braid, using the tasseled end to stroke up her bare arm like a paint brush. “Why not use your time here to end things between us the right way?”
“By dating? By attending a wedding?” She gave a half-hearted shrug of her shoulders, but he hoped she was also feeling twitchy because of his nearness.
Even in the moonlight, he could see the gooseflesh raised on her arm.
“By spending time together. We shut down everything so fast we never had a chance for closure. To say goodbye to the good times we had instead of just the bad.” He heard her swift intake of breath and stepped closer, needing to press any advantage before she shut him down.
“We might end up tearing open old wounds instead. From a counseling perspective, I don’t think there’s any value to revisiting a broken relationship that way.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re not my counselor, isn’t it?” He could feel her response to his words in the rapid tattoo of pulse at her neck.
Still he waited. In life and in hockey, timing was everything.
Her gaze narrowed. “If I agree to a date, will you kiss me already?”
His heart slugged harder. Blood surged south.
“If you say yes,” he teased a touch along her plump lower lip, “I’ll kiss you until you ask me to stop.”
Her tongue darted out to dampen the seam of her mouth. He couldn’t wait to taste her.
“In that case, you can come with me to Jessamyn’s wedding.” She gave a small nod, sealing the deal. “You can be my date one more time.”
Victory bells rang in his head, the triumph sweeter than any game seven overtime win.
“You made me a very happy man tonight.” He still wrestled with the urge to run his hands all over her, but at least he had the green light for taking that sweet, sweet mouth of hers.
He closed the last of the distance between them, her curves brushing against him.
“So start making me a very happy woman.” Her clear-eyed challenge was meant to provoke him to haste. Maybe to goad him into taking her hard and fast against the side of the house.
She had to know how much he wanted that.
But he wouldn’t mess up this chance with her by rushing or taking more than what they’d agreed on.
“Soon enough, I promise.” Slowly, he wound the end of her braid around his hand until he tugged her head back. Her lips parted as her chin tilted up.
Damn, but she was a vision with the moonlight turning her skin to cream and her lips still glistening from where she’d wet them. He pressed his thumb into the soft fullness of her lower lip, pulling it down. A fire roared inside him.
But he didn’t kiss her there yet.
He brushed his lips along her ear instead. Whispering, “First, you need to let me taste you the way we’re both dying for.”
Six
Breathless, needy and quivering like a virgin bride after two years of abstinence, Lark couldn’t wait another second.
