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“Deal—”
“Then I’ll let you hold my hand.”
“Hold your hand?” He looks like I took away his puppy. “No kissing?”
“Take it, or leave it.” If I want to survive him, there can’t be kissing.
“Define no kissing.” He leans forward, but his hands go into his pockets.
“No kissing seems pretty clear.”
“Not to me.”
“Your mouth doesn’t touch my mouth.” My face heats five hundred degrees.
His gaze swings from my eyes to my mouth and back. “And you’re very, very sure that’s what you want me to agree to?” There’s nothing cocky in his eyes, but the look he’s giving me feels dangerous. Like I’m walking across a minefield.
I nod, desperate to escape him before I change my mind. I could do worse than kissing Gabe all week, even though I’m sure he’d ruin me for anyone else. He probably already has.
“Done.” He boosts the word with a mega grin. His eyes dance.Dance.
And I realize I’ve made a loop-hole-filled deal with the devil.
chapter 22
Gabe
“Offer others what benefits you the most.”
~ Meredith Morgan
(played by the award-winning Meredith Wade)
Raising Ryder: Episode99
My inner caveboy steals a second to mourn the loss of Jess’s lips. Then he’s off to catalog the other places his mouth can travel if he’s creative. And he’sridiculouslycreative.
My gaze slides to the scar she’s always trying to cover on her jaw. But then, I have a dilemma. Do I make my way up? Or down?
Jess’s skin turns the color of the cherry Porsche parked next to us in the hotel garage. “Wait.” She grabs my elbow, then drops her hand, her mouth fusing into the mutant offspring of a grimace and a frown. “What I said about the kissing—”
“Yep. Good talk.” I crank my smirk to wicked and pat her arm.
“Gabe.” She uses my name like a stop sign.
Sliding into my best Nice Guy,I offer my elbow in a throwback to chivalry. “Ready to go in?”
“I’m not an accessory.” Chin up, she walks toward the lobby without me.
My grin widening, I go after her, catching up just as she’s stepping into the revolving door. Instead of waiting, I slide into the one-person space behind her.
Her hair tumbles over her shoulders, hinting at the possibility of red highlights. Since I’ve been parked in the hand-holding zone, I inhale the scent of flowers where her hair tickles my nose instead of tangling my fingers in the waves.
“Quit panting on me.” As soon as the door opens into the lobby, she’s out. The swing of her hips surges fromaggravatedtobreathing fire.
We almost reach the coffee counter before we’re noticed. A few whispers. A couple pictures. I don’t push her to pick up our pace, but I don’t slow down enough to get sucked into a fan vortex either. Another kiss pic would be perfect, but since that’s off the menu, I do the only thing I’m allowed and link our fingers. For now, it’s enough to make me smile. How amazing is it that I’m happy to just hold hands with this girl?
Down the first bank of elevators, we get lucky and hit an empty car. She reclaims her hand, and I slide to the back corner, flipping through things in my head that might relax her. “I read your book last night.”
