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She groans and starts to turn around. “Never mind. Forget it.”
“Lucy, hold on a second,”
I reach out and grab her wrist, tugging her back to me. She spins and winds up flush against my chest, green eyes wide and completely focused on me, just how I like it. I never considered myself a selfish man, until Lucy. I wrap my arm tight around her back, keeping her from trying to run away again.
“Tell me about this plan,” I ask gently, “please.”
She sighs heavily, rolling her eyes, and I grin.
“Fine,” she mutters, resting her hands against my chest. “If you insist.”
But instead of talking, she rises on her tip-toes and places a kiss on my jaw. Then another on the corner of my mouth. My breath hitches, and her hands fist into my shirt as she kisses the other corner of my mouth. It takes me an embarrassing amount of time before I realize what she’s doing.
I place my hands on her hips and spin her around so it’s her back against the wall. I rest my arm beside her head, my other hand staying on her hip. Her eyes widen and I smirk, leaning my head down to nuzzle her neck. God, she smells amazing. Her skin is soft from the harsh ocean air, and I grin as goosebumps begin to appear on the places I touch.
“I know what you’re doing, sunshine,” I whisper, my lips brushing against the place where her collarbone meets her neck.
She shivers, and my hand tightens involuntarily against her hip.
“Mm?” she hums.
I place my lips against her neck in a barely there kiss and she lets out a strangled noise that has me resting my forehead against her shoulder. This woman will be the death of me.
“Stop trying to distract me,” I huff.
“Seems like you’re doing a pretty good job of distracting yourself,” she quips.
I smirk and lift my head to face her. Her skin is flushed, and her eyes are wide as they flick down to my mouth before rising to meet mine. I raise my eyebrows and she has the audacity to lick her lips.
“The plan, Lucy,” I say, pulling myself back and away from her with great effort. “Please share.”
She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest, leaning her head back against the wall and staring at the ceiling.
“I wanted to wait until it was published and show up at your house with your very own copy of the book. The first real copy, other than the one I’ll have myself. I was going to have it wrapped up in that brown craft paper and a little twine bow. And I had planned on signing it, with a special inscription. You know, my very own grand gesture or whatever.”
I can’t stop the huge, goofy grin that’s spread on my face. I lean back against the couch, my legs crossed at the ankle.
“And how would me reading the book before it was published affect any of this?” I wonder.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and I grip the back of the couch to stop from walking across the room and gently tugging it out with my thumb.
“Because I wanted that to be the first time you read it. Especially the dedication.”
My eyebrows rise to my hairline. “The dedication?”
“Don’t”—she points a finger accusingly at me—“don’t press me about that. I’m not budging and letting you read it until the book is published. I can be absurdly stubborn when I put my mind to it.”
“I know.” I smirk. “I’ve seen your stubbornness firsthand.”
She nods excessively and takes a step toward me, still pointing at me. My eyes bounce from her finger to her face a few times, but her eyes never leave mine.
“Stop reading my book and let me have my grand gesture, got it?”
She’s standing in front of me now, finger poking into my chest and head tilted up so she can stare directly into my eyes. It’s a bit disconcerting to be honest.
“Can I think about it?” I ask, looking down at her finger.
“No.”
