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People preferred a confident partner, and her sexual self-esteem had been shattered after her ex. She’d believed his claims, even if her rational side told her not to.
“Lara?” Troy nudged her elbow.
He lifted his fork to his mouth, and she glanced at him and the baker, who watched them with interest.
She grabbed the first sample in front of her, picked a good mount with her fork and took it to her mouth. The notes of a citrusy flavor teased her palate, along with a sweet finish. “This is…”
“Our ginger and passion fruit flavor,” Whitney said. “It’s a less safe option than classic flavors like vanilla butter cream, for instance.”
Less safe. A pang of mischievous stabbed at her. She definitely needed more ginger and passion fruit in her life. She’d thought she had it, until she met Troy. But he awakened parts of her she had a hard time putting to sleep again. Even if that meant she’d have to fight for them. “I love it. How about you, Troy?”
He took a bite. “It’s very different. I like it.”
“Like it? It’s like magic in your mouth.”
The baker chuckled. “I’ll leave you two discussing. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” she said, dashing away from them.
He leaned closer, his manly scent inebriating her senses. “Lara, are you okay? You zoned out for a moment.”
She stared at him. His facial expression softened a bit, and he stared back, eyes on hers. She could ignore the little alarm ringing in the back of her mind. “Am I bad in bed?”
He frowned for a second, then laughed. “Are you serious?”
Confusion filled her head. Her pulse kicked up a notch. Should she be worried or relieved? “Yes. We had sex and then after that day you’ve avoided me, even after we agreed on doing it again.”
“Why would I agree to then avoid you?”
She swallowed. “Maybe you had some time to think and changed your mind but didn’t want to hurt my feelings? I have no fucking idea. But I need to know even if it’ll hurt me.”
He caressed her cheek, and she had to fight the instinct, the need to lean into it like a pampered cat. “I don’t want to hurt you, Lara,” he said, his voice even but carried with an emotion she couldn’t pinpoint.
She bit the inside of her cheek and withdrew. “Then tell me.”
“I want you. I keep away because I want you.”
A thrill of female empowerment ran though her. “Why though? Doesn’t make sense. We already—”
“Look, I’m not good at talking about my feelings.”
“An understatement.”
He scratched his neck, his gaze traveling around until it returned to her again in full force. “That night when Nikki’s kids were over… it felt very domestic. And I was scared.”
“You were scared of me getting the wrong idea?”
“No. Of me getting the wrong idea.”
Moisture evaporated from her throat. Conflicting emotions warred inside her for a moment, so fast they left her disoriented and confused. Then she looked to him one more time, and the intensity in his gorgeous blue eyes unlocked a sea of hope inside her. Waves and waves of it, flooding through her, giving her goose bumps. Damn it. Who was she kidding?
She liked that he was afraid of getting emotionally involved with her—because at once, they shared the same feeling. And she longed for more of them. She longed for more of him.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said in a low voice, reaching for his hand.
A powerful energy passed between them, and one had to be in a sensory deprivation tank not to see it. Not to feel it. Not to want more of it.
He brushed his index over her flesh, setting a delightful chain of reactions in her body. Her skin raised, little currents of sexual awareness traveling up her wrist, then her arm, and at last, diving straight to her core. “You’re a good woman, Lara. But I always fuck things up.”
“Why?”
