Page 86 of Defend Her Heart

We climb into his truck and take off to the mystery location he still refuses to tell me about.

“Can I at least get a hint?” I puff out my bottom lip and wait for him to glance at me. He laughs as soon as he sees it.

“Well, how can I say no to that face?”

I bounce in my seat and clap my hands excitedly like a little kid.

“Okay. Think about our first date…”

His words trail off but he doesn’t continue. “That’s it? That’s the clue?”

“Yep.” He reaches for the knob and turns up the music, ending the discussion.

Crossing my arms, I lean back against my seat and pout. I see him shake his head at me from the corner of my eye as I begin to replay our first date. We went for pizza and then broke into the clock tower. Okay, pizza and clocks. As I’m trying to figure it out, we pull up to an unmarked brick building and there’s only one other car in the lot. Scanning to see if there’s a sign or anything, I turn to him when I don’t find anything.

“Where are we? Is this where you tell me you’re actually here to kill me? Because it’s pretty secluded and you could easily toss my body off that bridge over there.” I point to asketchy bridge just beyond the building that hovers over the Fox River.

Connor turns the engine off, completely ignoring me, and exits his truck. I’m feeling pretty good today, so I open my own door for once, and hop down onto the gravel lot.

“What are we doing here, Connor?”

He holds his hand out to me, and even though I want to refuse to take it until he tells me what’s going on, I can’t seem to make my body listen. We walk hand in hand to a tall steel door at the back side of the building. Connor knocks three times, and I bounce on my toes, both nervous and a little chilly from the wind.

The door finally opens and an older gentleman with a thick, black mustache greets us. “Ciao! You must be Connor and Avery.Benvenuto!Come in, come in.” The man moves aside and we walk into an industrial-size kitchen. The smell of fresh bread, herbs, and spices assault my senses and on cue, my stomach growls something fierce.

Along the back side of the kitchen are a slew of ovens but my eyes catch on the giant brick oven in the center.

I turn in front of Connor and grasp both of his arms. “Are we making pizza?”

He leans down and kisses the top of my head. “Yeah, Aves. We’re making pizza. And I made sure to tell him we’ll need a ton of pineapple.”

If I wasn’t holding onto Connor, I think I would be a puddle on the floor.

We move to the center of the kitchen where a cooking station has been set up for us. Aprons, utensils, and ingredients are all spread neatly across the counter. Connor picks up the apron closest to me before I can reach for it.

“Here, let me,” he says flirtatiously.

The area between my legs begins to ache, and for a split second, I wish we were alone right now so I could hop on this counter and make him do something about it. Instead, I standstill, not trusting myself not to reach out and pull his face to mine.

Connor steps in close and lifts the loop over my head. His knuckles brush the side of my neck as he settles it, causing goose bumps to scatter over my skin. The fabric falls into place against my chest, but he doesn’t step back. His hands slowly slide down the sides of the apron, smoothing it out, and I hate how easily my body leans into his touch. I wish I could play hard to get, but my damn muscle memory makes it impossible.

“Hold on,” he mutters. His voice is lower now, causing me to shiver slightly.

My fingers curl at my sides, my nails digging into my palms at the sheer force, as he moves behind me. The second I feel him there, every nerve ending in my body lights up. I can feel the heat of him at my back, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.

But then he does. His fingers find the strings at my waist, just barely brushing against me as he pulls them around. It’s slow and careful but it still sends a jolt along my spine.

What the hell is wrong with me? This is ridiculous. It’s just an apron for crying out loud.

“Too tight?” he asks, his voice so close that his breath kisses my ear.

I swallow. “It’s fine.”

It is not fine.

Because his hands are still there, resting at my hips even though he’s already tied the knot. Because I can still feel his breath at the curve of my neck now. Because all I want to do right now is lean back just an inch and capture his mouth with mine.

My head turns before I can stop it and he’s right there. So close that my next breath brushes his lips. Everything in me goes still and for a second, neither of us moves. I’m not even sure either of us are breathing right now.