“Fine.” There go her hands again, propped up on her sinfully sexy hips. “How old are you?”
“How old are you?” I turn the question around, but I know her age. It’s in the briefing files we all received.
“You’re not supposed to ask a woman how old she is.” Her quick retort makes me smile.
Definitely warming up to me.
“Hey, you started with the age crap.” I hold my hands up and out in defense. “Only fair to answer your own question.”
“You said you’ve been perfecting your kiss for decades. That’s at least two decades. If you were ten when you first kissed a girl, which is arguably young, to be honest, that would put you in your thirties.”
“Twenty-eight, actually.”
“Really? So, you were …”
“Eight. Third grade. Lacy Cooper dared me to kiss Margery Beck.”
Wow, that’s a memory that pops up out of nowhere. I haven’t thought about Margery in a very long time. I can’t help but wonder what happened to her over the years.
“A dare? Your first kiss was because of a dare?”
“Don’t judge.” I waggle my finger. More teasing. More lightening of the atmosphere between us. Things are going well.
I like this. It’s a safe topic.
“Not judging, just surprised. When I was in third grade, the boys weren’t interested in me.” Her matter-of-fact statement is filled with the conviction of false-truth. She knows nothing about a young boy’s mind.
“I can tell you, with one hundred percent certainty, those boys were definitely interested.”
“Not at eight, they weren’t.” She defends her comment.
“You don’t know boys.” I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t curious about girls. They always fascinated me. “The boys may not have known what to do, but they were definitely watching.”
“That may be.” She hesitantly agrees, then negates it. “The ones in my third-grade classroom never talked about kissing.”
“You’re wrong. Or maybe I was a third-grade perv?” I shrug. “Who knows? It’s possible. I watched all the girls, and I studied the sixth graders who shared our recess period. Those boys not only hung out with the girls, they touched them. They held hands, and they kissed. Never where the teachers could see, but I saw what they did.”
“Oh my, you were a perv.” Her eyes shine with amusement. Better yet, she leans forward and taps me on the shoulder. “And you were eight when you kissed a girl for the first time? I have to hear this story.”
Score one for the win. She touched me. Not because I told her. It was unplanned, uninhibited, and completely natural.
“Well, Lacy said I had a fish mouth and slobbered like a dog. Maybe the two of you talked?” I arch a brow.
“You’re a goofball. Why did you kiss Margery? That doesn’t make sense. Why didn’t you kiss Lacy?”
“Because Tod Thomson kissed Margery under the slide. He was a fifth grader, and you know what that meant.”
“No. I don’t know. What could that possibly mean?”
“Margery was the only girl in our class who could prove Lacy Cooper wrong. I figured I kiss Margery and do better than Tod Thomson. He was the meanest kid in school, a royal prick. Although I didn’t know to call him that at the time.”
“You didn’t know what royal prick meant, but you knew he kissed Margery?”
“Everyone knew he kissed Margery.”
“How?”
“Because he blabbed it to everyone.” My lips twist with the memory. “Tod was a tool. A total bastard.”
The longer we talk, the more I enjoy her company. There’s an easiness with her. She’s both vulnerable and mentally tough. I love the contrast. Makes her that much more interesting.
I no longer regret getting stuck with her. In fact, I’m looking forward to spending more time with Maria Rossi.
“You’re absolutely stunning, and I don’t mean just on the outside. Your mind is a rich tapestry I can’t wait to unravel.”
“Unravel? I don’t know if there’s anything left to unravel, not that I’m terribly complex.”
“Come here. After everything you’ve learned about your family, you need a hug.”
I draw her into my embrace. Her arms wrap around me, and she places her cheek against my chest. There’s no resistance.
One hurdle down.
“You’re not what I expected.” Maria takes in a deep breath.
“And what is that?” I continue holding her but leave space between us. This isn’t something I can force. Maria needs to feel safe in my arms.
This close, her sapphire eyes mesmerize me. I could get lost in them for days and still need more. Tiny flecks of blue, green, and gold dance in those captivating depths.
Truly an unusual beauty.
“It’s not complimentary.” Her lashes flutter with that comment.
Maria tightens her hold on me, snuggling against my chest. As for me, I keep my grip loose. I’ll lose her if I push this.
“I bet I can guess.” I brush her hair off her shoulder.
“You think so?”
“Yes.” I can’t help it. “You believe I’m the kind of man who goes to a bar, snaps his fingers, flirts, then fucks, then leaves.”
“Flirts, then fucks? Props for great alliteration.” Her soft laughter warms me from the inside out.
“Great alliteration would be flirts, fucks, and flees.”
“You win.” Her laughter comes freely, not forced at all. She punches me lightly on the chest. “Definitely not what I expected.”
“Princess.” I cup the side of her face and draw my thumb across her cheek. I want to press it against her lips, but I’m in no rush.
“Yes?” Her eyes close as I trace the gentle curve of her cheekbone. It wouldn’t take much to lean down and steal another kiss.
“How about you give me that kiss I asked for?” I keep my tone neutral, injecting as little emotion into my words as possible.
“I already did.” She counters, a defensive move.
“No. I kissed you.” Time to remind her. “I asked you to trust me. Or did you forget about lifting up on tiptoe and kissing me?”
“You’re going to be the death of me.” She nibbles on her lower lip while I hold incredibly still, trying not to spook her.
She’s either going to rise to the challenge or take a massive step back. If she does that, I’m sending that car away. There’s no way we can be seen in public if she’s that uncomfortable around me.
However, if she takes the bait and …
Maria lifts on tiptoe and very gently brushes her lips against mine.
“Well, hello, sunshine.” My arms wrap around her and tug her in close.
I don’t do what I want, which is to pursue that kiss further. Instead, I hold her tight and thread my fingers through her silky hair.
“You, Miss Maria Rossi, are the bravest woman alive. Fierce and loyal, I’m definitely falling for you.”
“Goofball.” She punches me in the chest. To my surprise, it kind of hurts.
“You’ve got some oomph in that punch of yours.”
“I should. Got my black belt at the end of that rainbow of colors, then moved on to Krav Maga. Or did you forget how I took you down in the van?”