Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Dinner was incredible, but Brooke could barely focus on the food. Even the most delicious seafood and fragrant sauces couldn’t distract her from the man sitting across the table, his eyes gleaming blue in the candlelight.
“Good?” Riley asked, nodding to her plate.
“Uh huh.” Brooke managed a vague murmur in reply, watching as he tore off a piece of bread and dipped it in the bowl of oil. He took a bite, a drop of the sauce lingering on the edge of his mouth until he licked it away.
She shivered.
What was she doing? She thought she’d have it together by now.
She’d spent all afternoon feeling bold with anticipation—taking a luxurious shower, dressing in that gorgeous lingerie, just imagining the look on Riley’s face when it came time to undress and reveal her surprise—but the moment he arrived on her doorstep, looking better than any man had a right to look, all that confidence seemed to disappear in a whirlwind of fluttering desire.
Focus, Brooke, she told herself. Just because he was all crisp and clean-shaven, he was still the fun-loving guy she knew. The one who made her laugh with all his charming innuendo.
The one who took you to the brink of pleasure—and right over the edge.
She flushed, her body tightening at the memories.
“Everything OK?” Riley looked puzzled. “You’ve gone quiet.”
“Huh? Oh, no, I’m fine,” Brooke covered quickly. “I was just . . . thinking about work. This food is so good, do you think your friend would be interested in catering at all?”
“For your big wedding?” Riley replied. “He doesn’t normally, but you can always ask. I’ll send word back to the kitchen when we’re done.”
“Great.” Brooke took a gulp of her water, trying to cool down. But it was hard. Every time she looked at Riley, she remembered exactly what they’d done the last time they were together.
His hands, sliding over her body. His lips, teasing at her skin. And those fingers?—
She stopped short before she could finish the thought.
God, those fingers.
Getting this turned on in public was a dangerous thing, and she would just die if anyone knew the steamy thoughts racing through her mind. Luckily, Riley seemed completely oblivious—lounging back in his seat, totally at ease as he cleared his plate.
She took another sip of water and tried to think of something safe to talk about. But every glance at him only made her heart beat faster, watching the gold tone of his skin against his button-down shirt, and the way his cuffs were pushed back over those strong, tanned forearms . . .
“Dessert?”
Brooke jerked her head up. Riley was smiling at her from across the table. “We could have it here, or . . . take some to go.”
His smile turned seductive, and Brooke had to remind herself to breathe. “Sure,” she managed, holding onto the table to keep from slipping to the floor in a pool of pure desire. “Sounds good to me.”
“Perfect.” Riley called their server back over, and a few minutes later, they were set with a couple of crisp bakery boxes and the check.
“This is my treat.” Brooke stopped him as he reached for his wallet. “I mean it.” She gave him a warning look. “It’s my way of saying thank you, for all your help at the hotel.”
Riley looked reluctant, but he nodded. “There are other ways of thanking me besides picking up the check,” he pointed out, with a raffish grin.
Brooke laughed. “Oh, I know.” She gave him what she hoped was a flirty smile. “This is just the first part of my gratitude.”
Riley met her gaze, and the air between them suddenly grew hot; thick with electricity.
“Then let’s go,” he said, his voice low, and Brooke couldn’t scramble out of her seat fast enough.
His hand rested on her lower back as they headed for the door, and Brooke could have sworn she felt his touch burning her, even through the silk of her dress.
“What, so I don’t even get a thanks for that meal?”
They stopped. A tall, dark-haired man was emerging from the kitchen. Heads turned, and Brooke could see why—with his roguish smile and an arm full of tattoos disappearing under his chef’s whites, he was worth a closer look.
“Declan,” Riley greeted him, slapping him on the back. “I didn’t want to interrupt the genius at work.”
Declan chuckled. “That’s more like it. And this must be Stephanie.” He turned to Brooke with a smile.
Riley paused, looking so uncomfortable, Brooke had to laugh.
“Actually, it’s Brooke,” she said, shaking his hand. “It’s great to meet you. Dinner was amazing. The reviews don’t do you justice.”
“I like her already,” Declan said to Riley.
“That makes two of us.”
“I don’t suppose you do any private catering?” Brooke asked. “I have a big wedding I’m planning in a couple of weeks, VIP.”
“Sorry, love.” Declan shook his head. “Not my scene.”
“Money’s no object, if that makes a difference,” Brooke added hopefully.
He smiled. “Not one bit.”
“Well, it was worth a shot,” she sighed. The chefs at the hotel would do a great job, instead.
“Great meeting you,” Declan said. “Come back anytime.”
They headed outside. “Sorry about that,” Riley said, glancing over.
“What for?” Brooke replied. “He seems like a great guy.”
“When he’s in the right mood,” Riley said, unlocking the car. “He’s a little . . . eccentric. The whole temperamental artist thing.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Lord help the ladies of Sweetbriar Cove with the two of you out on the town, huh?”
“It’s not like that,” Riley insisted, but Brooke wasn’t fooled. He was trying to be polite, but she’d known from the start what she was getting into here, and she was under no illusions about Riley’s history with women.
“Sure it is.” She smiled. “Our hostess was drooling over you all night. But I don’t blame her,” she added. “How could she resist your charms?”
Brooke certainly couldn’t. The whole drive back, her anticipation rose again, twisting tighter until she felt almost feverish with nerves.
Was it possible to pass out from pure desire?
She’d always thought her mom’s romance novels laid it on a little heavy with their swooning heroines, but now she wasn’t so sure.
She was practically breathless, stealing glances at Riley in the dark of the driver’s seat, passing headlights casting shadows over his strong jawline.
“Here we are.”
Was it just her imagination, or did Riley sound almost nervous too? There was a gruff note in his voice as they pulled up outside her gate, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow.
Brooke got out of the car. She didn’t invite him up, but she didn’t need to—Riley followed her up the stairs and inside. Brooke flipped the lights to dim and swallowed.
They were alone.
“I’ll, umm, put on some coffee?” she suggested. “Or tea, if you want, and I think I have some beers?—”
He kissed her. Slow and sensuous, hands at her waist, tugging her into him. Brooke went willingly, melting into the hard planes of his body, and oh, the taste of him, the stroke of his tongue sending shivers down her spine.
She was lightheaded when they came up for air.
“I don’t want coffee,” Riley murmured, kissing along her jaw.
“Dessert?” Brooke’s voice went up as he reached her earlobe, nibbling with a sexy nip.
“No, thank you.” His hands slid over her waist, the silk soft against her skin. “There’s only one thing I need,” he whispered, and the rasp in his voice made her tremble. “You. Naked. Now.”
Brooke gulped. Could he get any sexier? She’d only had a glass of wine, but she felt drunk, reeling from the sensations pounding through her body, and the feel of him, stroking a teasing path over the curve of her hips.
What had happened to all her bold seduction plans?
She’d wanted to take the lead and relish every moment of this night.
Instead, she was practically clinging to him on unsteady feet, her mind a haze of lust.
“I, um…” She broke away and bolted for the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and gulping quickly to try to clear her head.
Breathe.
Why was she acting like this was a huge, life-changing moment? This was supposed to be fun. No strings, no drama, no hint of emotional turmoil or guilty regrets.
Brooke took another sip of the water, her daze clearing. This was Riley, her Riley. He wouldn’t have expectations, and he definitely wouldn’t be judging her for anything. She knew what she wanted. Him. So what reasons did she have holding her back?
No reason at all.
Riley waited, wondering what was going through Brooke’s mind. She needed a beat, that much was clear, so he took the dessert box and moved over to the couch, kicking back with his feet up on the coffee table.
She could take all the time she wanted, he’d still be going out of his mind over here, crazy with lust.
“Don’t tell Summer, but I think Declan’s chocolate cake is even better than hers,” he said conversationally, digging in.
To tell the truth, he could use a beat to cool off, too.
The drive had almost done him in. he’d nearly pulled off to the side of the road a half-dozen times, just yanked her into his lap right then and there to claim the kiss that had been building between them all night.
But now, in the dim light of her apartment, away from traffic and crowds and any pesky interruptions, their chemistry had a new simmer. Something crackling at the edges, bright and hot and threatening to burn wild, out of control.
Everything else had just been a preview. Kiss by kiss. Inch by inch. And now . . . ?
Now he wanted everything.
Brooke finally put her water down and walked across the room. “You better get over here, before I eat this whole thing,” Riley said, glancing up.
The look in her eyes stopped him in his tracks.
“It’s all yours,” Brooke said, almost casually. She stood there in front of him, in the dim glow of the corner lamp.
Slowly, she slipped one strap off her shoulder.
Riley paused.
A small smile played on the edge of her lips as Brooke pushed the other strap aside. Her dress slipped down over her body in a ripple of silk, pooling at her bare feet on the floor.
Riley stopped breathing.