
Garrett couldn’t have found a more romantic place if he’d tried. Sprawled across the open lawn between the restaurant and the bayou creek were ancient live oaks with their grey tresses of Spanish moss seductively swaying with the breeze. A wide band of spartina grasses hugged the creek shore, and each gust of wind urged them to tango right and back left again. Long-legged shorebirds scuffled in the shallows to stir up crustaceans or mollusks for their dinner.
“Still a good pick.” He held up his scotch and water. “Here’s to the newest Bayou Princess employee.”
She clinked her wine glass to his. “The two newest Bayou Princess employees. Don’t forget you started today, too.”
“To the two newest,” he quickly amended.
Holy cow! I need to be on my toes tonight.
As she lowered her glass, he leaned in and gently brushed his lips across hers. She froze. He pulled back no more than an inch, stared into those wide, hypnotic-blue eyes, and pressed his lips to hers again.
Both of them holding glasses, they touched only at their lips, a flashpoint that sent heat straight to his gut. She pressed back against his lips, and he wanted to whoop. He traced her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and—Hallelujah!—she let him in. He thought of pitching his glass into the creek, so his arms were free to wrap her up. So great had his need skyrocketed when she timidly touched her tongue to his. Blood rushed high to pound in his head and rushed low to pound in . . .
Lord! Tucker, get control of yourself! What the heck is wrong with you?
He had lost control, that’s what. He never lost control. His attraction to Andi had been instantaneous and visceral, like the feeling had been there incubating all along. Hell, he had kissed Andi in front of a bank of restaurant windows. An odd little tug pulled near his heart. He forced himself to pull back and not roar his delight when she swayed toward him. Thank God, she wasn’t ready for the kiss to be over either.
Those hypnotic sapphires looked glassy now. She blinked a couple times to clear the—hopefully—lust away.
“What was that for?” she whispered. “Congratulations?”
“No. I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you in the church.” His voice sounded gravelly, and her eyes grew wide. “Thought I’d finagle my chance at the reception.”
“Do you kiss all the girls you smile at?”
“No,” he said, a little too curtly. He didn’t want her thinking he kissed all his dates like that. Actually, he did kiss all his dates. Just not like that. Like he couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t, didn’t want to stop.
Andi was . . . different.

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ReplyDeleteBest always, Petie