“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, though not sure why. Did she want to hear that she needed to lose weight? No. Not from him.
“I was going to say that I don’t see any problems with you at all. I like you just the way you are.” He met her gaze. There was no hint of a smile, or any inclination that he was joking.
Oh, shit.
He was serious.
“You’re just saying that because you’ll want more of my lasagna.” A nervous chuckle escaped her. Popping the rest of the danish into her mouth, she chewed, trying to prevent herself from saying something else she’d regret.
“I’ll always accept a good home-cooked meal from a beautiful woman.”
His lips curled up into a smile, revealing his perfect teeth. Looking relaxed, he reached for his coffee and took another sip.
Her heart raced.
He thought she was beautiful?
No fucking way.
A silly grin spread across her face.
“Keep talking like that, I’ll have to make my chicken carbonara,” she said with a wink.
Holy mother of God.
Did she just do that? She wasn’t the flirty type, and didn’t know who this person was taking over her body.
He looked at her over his cup and raised his brow. “Don’t make me beg, woman.”
He wouldn’t ever have to beg for anything from her.
“Okay. I’ll let you know the next time I make it.”
Before long, they had finished their coffees. Alana wasn’t sure how time had gotten away from her. She was supposed to be working, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to be a little selfish. Here she had a man paying attention to her, offering pleasant conversation with a sexy Southern accent.
Butterflies filled her stomach.
What was this?
“So, where to next?”
She tilted her head and studied him. Well, she had planned to go knickknack shopping after work, but it looked like her plans were changing.
“There are a few shops I do want to stop in.”
Clearing their table, London tossed their trash away before walking back over to her. Her core clenched at the swagger in his walk.
“Lead the way.”
6
London couldn’t take his eyes off Alana. She looked completely at home in the book/record shop. It had an indie, homey feel. Just stepping into the establishment had him feeling as though he’d stepped back in time.
“You still have a record player?”
He couldn’t help but touch her. Her thick, dark hair was straightened, resting on her shoulders. When she looked up at him, her eyes were magnified by her pink and purple glasses.
Last night, they were a crisp white pair. Today’s were colorful, hinting at her quirky personality.
“I do,” she admitted. “There’s something about the sound of a record that you don’t get on digital.”
“What are you looking for?” he asked, moving in closer to take in her floral scent. Her perfume was driving him crazy. He wanted to bury his face in the crook of her neck and breathe it in.
“Just browsing.”
Picking up one, he chuckled. “Now this is a blast from the past.”
Peeking at his choice, she burst into a fit of laughter. “What do you know about that?”
“My mother loved all kinds of music. She always had her records playing while she cleaned the house.”
He ran his hand along the cover of the album, remembering his mother pulling her records out so she could put them on the turntable.
“Your mother played Bobby Caldwell?”
Feigning hurt, he placed his hand over his heart. “What’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t know. With that accent of yours…”
“Growing up in the country, sometimes all you did was listen to music. Even my father loved it. He’d bring out his guitar and play while we sat by the fire.
Memories of his youth surfaced, and it left him feeling a little homesick. His parents were his and Jaxon’s biggest supporters.
“Sounds like you had an amazing upbringing,” she breathed.
“I did. My record collection is at home in my old room, collecting dust,” he replied wistfully.
He made a promise to come back and take his time browsing, the smell of the records bringing back so many memories. He’d forgotten how much he loved just sitting around, listening to music.
He put back the album and followed her as she moved farther down the aisle.
“And what’s my accent got to do with anything?” he questioned, needing to hear her explanation as to what his accent had to do with music.
She spun around and walked backward, away from him, her face lit up with merriment. In the two days he’d now spent with her, he was learning her mannerisms, and now she was in a playful mood he was enjoying immensely.
London felt the most relaxed he’d ever been. Most of his encounters with women were that of the physical kind, having no desire to get to know them.
Alana was different.
He wanted to know everything about her. Her inner thoughts when he caught her staring at him. The nerdy side of her. He even wanted to know more about the books she loved to read and the movies she liked to watch.
He had a great time last night, and hadn’t wanted it to end.
But something happened. She had shut him down and sent him packing.
It had felt so good to have her tucked into his side. One second more on the couch, they would have kissed.
He didn’t know what he had done wrong. She’d rushed him out of her apartment, leaving him confused. He had wondered if he had done or said something he shouldn’t have, but after spending time with her today, he doubted it.
He had this deep ache in his chest to know what those plump lips of hers tasted like. What had thrown him off was that she thought she could do with losing some weight.
The idea was crazy.
Her plush body was like that of a Greek goddess, curvy in all the right places. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her.
Desire for her warmed his body and flowed down to his cock. It grew stiff and heavy watching her walk away from him.
“I just figured all you Southern boys were into country music.”
A hearty laugh escaped him. That was a new one for him to hear. Yes, he was raised in rural Alabama, but that didn’t mean they were hillbillies who only listened to country.
“Really? So you had me pegged for a good ol’ Southern hillbilly?” He stalked toward her, enjoying their interaction. He knew he still spoke with an accent that gave away his Southern roots.
“By looks? No. When you thicken your accent up on purpose, like you’re doing now, then yes,” she replied haughtily.
She spun around on her heel and walked over to the book section, where rows of shelves lined the walls. The scent of paperbacks filled the air, reminiscent of the times he’d spent in the libraries in college studying for exams.
His gaze dropped to the swell of Alana’s ass. His pants were now tight, and it was a struggle to keep from unzipping his jeans to give him some form of relief.
Maybe he was an uncultured hillbilly. No woman had ever had this effect on him. He could normally control his urges, but being in Alana’s presence changed all that.
He wanted her.
That was without question.