CHAPTER 11 #3
The prospect of being on a blanket with him brought back a seriously hot déjà vu, and Claire immediately regretted her decision to do this. Her gaze flicked to a bench they’d left behind.
“Too late, Penny. Come sit by me. I promise I won’t bite.” He grinned. “If I recall, it is I who should be worried about that happening.”
She hadn’t been able to control herself that night. And she was feeling the same impulses right now. She didn’t understand it, this urge to sink her teeth into him. She hadn’t had it with anyone but Ian.
She took a seat beside him and accepted the white paper bag, which by the grease stains, she surmised must be the fries.
“How are these still warm?”
“It’s both a cooler and a warmer. Necessary in North Dakota if you buy takeout and don’t want your meal to be inedible by the time you get it home.”
He handed her two foil-wrapped packages. “I ordered these disassembled so that the buns don’t get soggy.”
Well. The man certainly was detail oriented.
You already knew that by what he does in bed.
Good God. Not going there was a lost cause.
She briefly closed her eyes, willing those forbidden thoughts away.
Yes, this had been a very bad idea because, at the moment, instead of telling him to stay away, all she wanted to do was jump his bones.
The breeze carried his clean scent to her nostrils, and they involuntarily flared as she breathed him in.
Ian parted the foil wrapper, revealing two plain beef patties. She watched him quickly assemble his burger, adding pickles, grilled onions, and mustard.
He nodded toward her unopened packages. “Aren’t you hungry?”
He held his burger, waiting, and Claire realized he didn’t want to start eating without her.
“Please, go ahead. No need to wait for me.”
She set about putting together her own sandwich, tearing open a packet of mayonnaise, and applying a dollop to her bottom bun.
He took a large bite of his burger, watching her intently as he chewed. “That isn’t very much,” he finally said.
“It’s not for taste, it’s for mouthfeel. I don’t want to overpower the flavor.”
“I’ve never seen anyone put condiments on the bottom bun.”
“It’s thicker and won’t get too wet from the juices of the burger.”
“Just mayo? No ketchup?”
She shook her head. “Ketchup is for fries.” She held it out. “Here, try it.”
Claire expected him to refuse, but Ian leaned forward, and she waited expectantly as he took a bite and chewed. A smile spread slowly across his face. “Pass me a packet.”
She tossed it to him, and he caught it in one hand. In no time, he had added mayo to the bottom bun. Why did that please her so much?
“I always add mayo to the meat when I make burgers, but I do it before I cook it.”
“You cook?”
He nodded. “I don’t have time to do it often. The mayo trick is one of my secrets. They’re a hit at every family barbecue. It’s the one thing everyone likes, and that’s not easy with so many people to please.”
“You have a big family?”
“Big is an understatement. You?”
“It’s just my mom and me.” She tore open the paper bag, took out the cup overflowing with fries, dumped half on the paper, and offered him the rest.
He shook his head. “Those are all for you.”
Her brows raised. “You don’t want any fries?”
“Can’t have fries. I have to avoid the entire nightshade family. Potatoes, peppers, eggplant.”
“This is related to the tomato allergy?”
“Yes.” He picked up his shake and took a long pull. She watched him swallow, remembered dragging her tongue along the side of his neck and the hickey she’d given him, and felt her mouth begin to water.
“That must be tough.” She reached for the ketchup packets, then changed her mind. “I still feel awful about that episode.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “That’s OK. It could be a lot worse.” A twinkle entered his eyes. “People who have a tomato allergy are often allergic to latex.” His heated gaze caught hers, and there was no mistaking what he was remembering. “Good thing that isn’t a problem for me.”
And there was that memory of him taking her from behind, under the glow of the Vegas lights below, as she’d used the glass window to keep from collapsing from the intensity of his thrusts. Right after he’d given her the gift of his tongue, on his knees.
She squeezed her thighs together.
He gave her a knowing half-smile, complete with dimple.
Thankfully, a green-headed mallard chose that moment to fly in and land on the water, bobbing mere feet away, and Claire gratefully focused on the duck instead.
A second later, a female mallard flew in, touching down right next to him, ruffling her mottled brown feathers as she preened under his watchful eye.
The birds glided across the lake. A few moments passed when all Claire heard was the sound of the water slapping against the nearby dock.
“I know you haven’t forgotten, Claire,” Ian said quietly. “It’s kind of awkward, dancing around the subject. Can we at least discuss it instead of making meaningless small talk about food?”
So, it was Claire now. The man was serious, and she didn’t know if she could handle that. “What is there to talk about?”
“Us.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d used that word in reference to the two of them together.
Her stomach seemed to do a flip. “I already told you I don’t want a relationship.” Now was the time to tell him to stop his pursuit.
She opened her mouth.
“Neither do I.”
His three words would have knocked her off her feet had she not already been sitting. Her eyes widened as she swallowed back what she was about to say. “You don’t?”
He shook his head. “But in all honesty, ever since that night with you in Vegas, it’s all I can think about. I’ve never experienced a connection at this level, and I think it would be worth exploring.”
Exactly what was he proposing? She took a bite of burger in an attempt to hide her apprehension. “As in …?”
His grin was equally wicked and devastating. “As in, you use me for sex.”