Close to You - Page 19/72

“Well, that’s a CliffsNotes version if I ever heard one.” He shakes his head and watches me, willing me to spill more, but I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.

“I’m glad that you’re okay.” Landon’s voice is soft. “You look fantastic.”

“Thank you.”

“What else is new with you?” he asks.

“Honestly, not much. With the business, I pretty much just work. Which sounds pathetic.”

“No, it sounds like you’re dedicated. So, you work and sleep?”

“That about sums it up.”

“Hmm,” he says, eyeing me with humor-filled eyes. “When was the last time you went to the movies?”

“It’s been a long time. But there’s a new one I wouldn’t mind seeing.”

We spend another hour talking about movies we’ve seen or want to see, laughing and just enjoying each other. I haven’t enjoyed myself so much with a man in . . . ever.

Even with my ex-husband, and that’s a sad state of affairs all on its own.

“I should take you home,” Landon says, looking at the time on his phone. “We both have to get up early for work.”

I keep my face neutral, but I’m a bit thrown. I was expecting him to try to seduce me, here on this couch.

But he stands and throws our empty beers away as I slide my feet back in my shoes, then escorts me to his car and drives me home.

I reach for the handle, but he stops me. “Date’s not over,” he says with a wink.

He walks just behind me to the door. I can feel his body heat in the cool winter evening, and I want to lean back against him.

Instead, I unlock the door and turn around to face him.

“I had a good time.”

“Me too.” He brushes his fingertips down my hairline, tucking a stray strand behind my ear, as he leans in and brushes his lips tenderly over mine. He grips my neck in his palm and proceeds to give me the sweetest, most gentle kiss of my life. “Good night.”

He backs away and I turn to open the door, but the next thing I know, I hear Landon whisper “Fuck it,” and I’m spun around and pushed against the still-closed door, and Landon’s hands are fisted in my hair and his lips are on mine. More urgently this time, licking and tasting me as if he’s been starving for me.

I grip his shoulders and hold on for dear life, praying this never ends. His lips are ridiculous. His touch is firm but reverent. And when he growls deep in his throat, I’m completely lost to him.

As the kiss slows, he whispers against my lips, “That’s the good kind.”

Finally, he eases back, brushes his nose over mine, and with a deep breath, turns and jogs down to his car.

I walk into my house in a fog. Did that just happen? I stare at the sunflowers on the sofa table and touch my lips with my fingertips. They’re still wet. I can still taste him.

It totally just happened.

I WAKE TO the smell of coffee. Which is impossible because I don’t even own a coffeemaker. I frown and throw an old T-shirt and yoga pants on and pad downstairs. Someone is moving about my kitchen.

I stop in the doorway, completely surprised. Landon is at the stove, flipping bacon in a pan and jumping back when it spatters at him. Scoot is nibbling at kibble in his bowl.

“How did you get in here?” I ask.

Landon’s head whips around. He smiles, allowing his eyes to rake up and down me. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning. How did you get in here?”

“Well, babe, I don’t want to lie to you.” He sighs and turns to place the cooked bacon on a paper towel, but doesn’t finish his thought.

“And?”

“That’s it. I don’t want to lie. Or, I could just say, it’s none of your business.”

“Uh-huh. Okay, then why are you here?”

He shakes his head. “It’s really flattering how excited you are to see me. I thought you could use a nice balanced breakfast before work. You say you don’t have time to eat in the morning, and I’m making time.”

“I am happy to see you,” I admit softly. “I’m just surprised.” And that might be the understatement of the year.

He leans over the island and kisses me chastely, then hands me a piece of bacon. “This will tide you over until I scramble the eggs.”

“When did I get a coffeemaker?”

“This morning. Mia told me you didn’t have one.”

“You didn’t have to buy me a coffeemaker.” But oh dear God, how good does it smell!

“I don’t have to do much of anything,” he replies, and pours me a cup, then passes it to me. “I wanted to bring you breakfast.”

“I didn’t think you could cook.”

“I’m not half-bad at morning food.”

“No, you’re not,” I murmur as I chew the bacon, still not completely awake. I take a sip of the coffee and hum as the hot liquid works its way down my throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I should go get ready for work.”

“Eat first. Then you can go get ready and I’ll answer some e-mails and wait for you.”

“Why would you wait?”

He glances back at me like I’m just not keeping up with him. “Because I’ll drive you to work. I’m going to the same place.”

I frown, but he walks around the island to me, and before I can speak, he plants those lips on mine. “Don’t argue,” he whispers.

“You’re bossy.”