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“You said it, not me,” he said.
“But you were thinking it.”
He shrugged. “Yes, I was, and I’ll try to be a better person and think nicer thoughts.”
“You’re such a good influence on me,” she said.
He laughed. “My, how times have changed.”
They walked for about ten minutes, up Bull Street to Wright Square and across York Street to Oglethorpe Square to the Owens-Thomas House.
“This is a cool place. Have you ever been inside?” he asked.
“Ages ago,” she said. “It’s been so long, I really don’t remember it.”
“We’ll have to come back in the daytime and do the tour,” he said. “This place has a lot of history. It’s part of the Telfair now. So, it has a lot of authentic furnishings from the early nineteenth century. It’s a perfect example of English Regency architecture.
“See the cast iron around the sides? The house is famous for being one of the first to have a cast iron side veranda and it’s where the Revolutionary War hero, the Marquis de Lafayette, stayed. He stood right there on that veranda when he addressed the citizens of Savannah.”
It was getting late. Daniel knew that there was a fine line between sharing his passion for Savannah architecture and making her eyes glaze over. So, they headed back to the inn. It was a pretty twenty-minute walk, made festive by the Christmas decorations. Time flew. It wasn’t long enough.
That was when Daniel knew he was in trouble. When was the last time he’d spent the whole evening with a woman and didn’t want the night to end—or he hadn’t been planning his strategy to get her back to her place for a little fun and afterward he could leave on his terms?
It was the strangest feeling. His body craved her, but he didn’t want to move too fast and mess things up. Plus, when they finally did take things to the next level, he didn’t want to rush. He wanted to have the whole night. He wanted her face to be the last thing he saw when he closed his eyes and first thing he saw when he woke up the next morning. He wanted to bring her breakfast in bed and not have to worry about doing right by Chloe.
When they turned into Hall Street off Whitaker, she said, “Can you stay out here a little longer or do you need to go in and get Chloe?”
“You tell me.” He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Chloe’s probably asleep by now, but I don’t want to take advantage of your grandmother.”
“Then how about taking advantage of me?”
She took him by the hand and led him to his truck. “Open the doors.”
He loved the mischievous glint in her eyes. His body instantly responded. “Should we drive somewhere else?”
The truck was parked across the side street and down a few yards from the Forsyth.
“We’re fine,” she said.
“Won’t they talk?”
“Let them talk. I’m sure Daisy is already burning up the party line. This will give everyone else something to talk about.”
They got in, he put Ray LaMontagne on the stereo and they made out in his truck, lips and mouths and hands exploring every inch of each other that was physically possible to explore in the cabin of a pickup truck. The back seat was too small and there was the matter of the cooler, which he strongly considered tossing out the window, but that would’ve been a mood killer.
“I want you to make love to me, Daniel.”
“I want that, too, but not here. Not like this.”
He wasn’t ready to say good-night, but he knew if they kept up what they were doing, he wasn’t going to be able to control himself for much longer. He kissed her for a long, hot moment and then she slid back into the passenger seat, righting her underwear and dress as he buttoned his jeans and tried to convince his body that this was really the best way.
Damn liar.
Hell, he wanted her. But he wanted her naked and in his bed. He didn’t want their first time to happen in a car.
As if reading his mind, Elle said, “I feel like we’re back in high school.”
“Yeah, but you and I never made out in a car.”
“We didn’t. We made out in the school library, remember?”
“I could never forget that.”
