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Right about now, round two is tempting as hell.
Candlelight reflects on his lenses and highlights his amber irises. The corner of his mouth kicks up and I lick my lips. His eyes don’t leave mine as he studies me a little too intently. I may be good at reading people, but so is Braydon. Better than he may realize. No doubt, the gift makes him a talented journalist.
“Two weeks.”
I stiffen then relax and Braydon laughs. His chortle both strong and tender.
“You seem undecided.”
“Undecided?” I ask with a hint of confusion.
He sips his water then nods. “Yep, undecided.”
Of course, he doesn’t elaborate. And before I ask what he means, the server delivers our meals. For now, I let his nonanswer go and eat my tostadas.
While we eat, I tap into my mojo to decipher the mystery that is Braydon.
He leans over his plate and tips his head sideways as he lifts a fish taco to his lips. After his bite, he sets the taco down and wipes his mouth with a napkin while chewing.
I don’t know Braydon—not really—but his need to wipe his mouth clean before he finishes eating says more than most would read into. What it tells me… Braydon is a tidy person. Organized—maybe not to the same extent as me, but organized nonetheless. In tune with his appearance. Traits I enjoy, not that it matters.
No romance. Just fun.
As our plates slowly empty, my earlier eagerness for answers returns. He is here to do a story but hasn’t asked a single question about the town. And let’s not forget his evasive behavior.
“So, Braydon.”
“So, Lessa,” he parrots my tone and I roll my eyes.
“Alessandra.”
“Huh?” His brows pinch in confusion.
“My name. It’s actually Alessandra, but most people call me Lessa. It’s easier.” I shrug—unsure why I felt the need to tell him in the first place. Before I let myself dwell, I move on. “What is it you think I’m undecided over?”
He wipes his mouth again and I follow the action with my eyes. “My time here.”
I tilt my head. “Not sure I follow.”
Braydon slides his plate aside and leans forward. Most men would make me shrink back as they invaded my personal space. Not Braydon. Something about him keeps me rooted in place. If anything, Iwanthis proximity. Want his eyes and lips closer. Want his smell to invade my space.
Braydon doesn’t have an intimidating bone in his body. Don’t ask how I know, I just do. If anything, his aura vibrates the opposite. Like an invitation. An unfiltered magnetism beckoning me closer. Making me eager for more. More than our one night and more than sex.
This light bulb moment alarms me most. Has red flags flying and lights flashing. But I brush it off. Take a breath and wait for him to elaborate.
“When I said I’d be in town for two weeks, your body language spoke volumes.”
I push my empty plate aside, press my forearms to the table and meet his gaze. “Oh yeah? And what did it tell you?”
I clamp down on my elbows and brace myself. I dish out honesty without a second thought, but being on the receiving end is a different story.
Braydon licks his lips and I press my thighs together. Remind myself to breathe. Thank god the table is wood and hides my legs.
“The idea bothers and comforts you.”
“That’s as clear as mud.”
He laughs and I focus on the lateral crinkle lines by his eyes, the way his Adam’s apple bobs.
