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“When I ask you out on a date, you’ll know it.” Chocolate brown eyes darkened.
Inside her, something moved. Rattled, she jumped up and turned away. He’d said “when” he took her on a date, as if it was something that would definitely happen.
––––––––
Swearing beneath hisbreath, Blake locked the door to Lindsay’s shop. What the hell was wrong with him, talking about dating? He was here to help her, not spook her.
Following her to his car, his eyes glued to her very tantalizing ass, he swore under his breath. Oh, man. His body was still not under control after listening to her explaining to a customer how she could improve things in the bedroom. The very graphic pictures her words had conjured up had given him a few embarrassing moments. Fortunately, both women had been too busy to notice his response.
How the hell had he ended up in this situation? From the moment he’d met Lindsay Wilson at the local bar in June, she’d managed to make him feel things he couldn’t allow himself to feel. Ever. With soft, blond hair cascading down her back and eyes the color of the sky on a clear day, she literally took his breath away.
He’d come to Alisson with one clear goal and that was to get away from trouble of any kind. But on the first night he was in town, he’d met this incredibly beautiful woman. She was trouble, he’d known, and that was before he’d heard about her past.
Blake checked the street and made a mental note of the green car parked down the way as he quickened his step to open the door for her. But she’d opened the door already before he could reach it.
“Let me...” he said and opened the door wider.
“Seriously, I can lock and open doors, you know? Been able to since I was three.” And with a shake of her head, she got into the car.
Today she was wearing a pair of jeans and boots, but he’d seen those long legs in summer and remembered the satiny, long limbs that were now covered in denim. And although the jacket she was wearing at this moment cloaked most of her body, he also had a vivid memory of a delicate lace top hugging generous curves he couldn’t seem to get out of his head.
Lace. She always wore lace. Muted pinks, blues, or yellow, but always lace. Even in this cold, the top underneath her jacket was made of soft pink lace.
He closed her door and muttering and cursing, walked around to the driver’s side, again furtively looking at the green car down the street. It hadn’t moved and was too far away for him to establish whether anyone was sitting inside.
Taking a deep breath, he got into the car and closed the door. Floral notes of Lindsay’s perfume, or whatever the hell she used, floated towards him, sending his already over-stimulated senses into a higher gear. Damn it, this had been such a bad idea.
Pressing his lips together, he switched on the car.
“I don’t know why you insist on taking me out to dinner. It’s obvious you’re not very happy about it. It’ll make it much easier for both of us if you simply tell me about Mark and get it over with. There is no need to discuss it over a meal, seriously. And I can get home on my own.”
Blake ignored her, put the transmission in gear, and slipped onto the road, driving past the green car. And yes, there was someone inside, all right, but the guy’s head was turned away so he couldn’t see what he looked like.
When he had passed the parked car, he again checked in the rearview mirror. Now the lights of the car shone brightly. Was the person behind the wheel following them, or was it a coincidence? Blake took out his phone and dialed the local police office’s number.
He’d never believed in coincidences. After he’d given them the number plates of the car, he checked again in the mirror. This time, the car wasn’t behind them any longer. But he was still uneasy.
“What was that all about?” Lindsay asked, motioning to his phone.
“Nothing you have to worry about.”
“Blake Davidson, so help me...” She inhaled deeply. “I can look after myself; nobody appointed you—”
He stepped on the brake and stopped the car before he made the conscious decision. When he turned to Lindsay, she was very close to him. The space inside the car had shrunk, or so it seemed at the moment.
“I’m worried about your safety,” he said.
“Why? You don’t even know me!” she cried out.
“Don’t you think I know that?” he muttered, his eyes on her lips. She had the most incredible mouth.
“So why...?” she began, but he was done talking.
He had to tell her what he knew, and then get the hell away from her as soon as possible before he did something they would both regret. Putting the car in gear, he stepped on the pedal, glancing in the rearview mirror again. Still no green car.
Beside him, Lindsay was muttering, but he tried his best to ignore her presence. “Bar or restaurant?”
“Restaurant, please. Eleanor and Brooke will probably be at the bar, and if Eleanor sees us together, she’ll be organizing a wedding before you know what’s hit you.”
