Page 54 of Hard Beat (Driven 7)
“I pulled out all the stops. Even the fine china,” I tease, thinking that in a way this date is beyond silly but still perfectly fitting for the two of us. In the life we lead chasing stories, it comes down to the little things that mean so very much – and tonight I’m glad to know by her reaction that she feels the same way.
“You did!” she says as she leans over the food spread between us and presses her mouth to mine. “When did you do all of this?”
“You’re not the only one who can go wandering the streets all by themselves, rookie.” I give her a quirk of my brow and receive a head shake from her in return.
“Should I give you the same lecture you give me?”
“It’s different.”
“No it’s not!” She swats my arm.
“I’m a guy. It’s totally different,” I repeat.
“And I’m a woman,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest in mock irritation.
“That you are,” I murmur, a suggestive smirk turning up the corners of my mouth. “A mighty fine one at that, and I most definitely am not complaining.”
“Good to know you approve.”
I trace my fingertips up the bare skin of her thighs. “Oh I approve, rookie. I definitely approve.” Desire stirs in an atomic bomb of need curling in the pit of my stomach.
“Later, Pulitzer. You’ll get to approve a lot more later.” She laughs as she pushes the bottle of wine against my chest to fend me off.
“That’s cold!” I take the bottle, though, and start to open it.
“Do you actually think you are going to hand a woman who has been deprived of indulgences a bottle of wine and a bag of chocolate and who knows what else is in here and think you’re going to distract her with sex?”
“Did I just get denied for food?”
“It’s not just food. It’s chocolate. That’s like the holy – Tanner, what is… really?” Her voice escalates in excitement and then laughter as she pulls two kid-sized bottles of bubbles from the bag.
She glances over to me again, and I can feel the look she gives me along every single inch of my skin causing the part of me that second-guessed the bottles to vanish. The look is raw and real and vulnerable and accepting and so many other things I stop trying to analyze because right here, right now, I have an absolutely gorgeous woman sitting beside me, enamored with the silly little touches I added to the date, and so there’s no need to question a damn thing. I’m just going with it.
“Bubbles,” she says softly. “I haven’t opened a bottle since I was a kid. But I used to love to sit in the front yard blowing them and watch the breeze take them up in flight, and see just how far they could go before they popped. Do you have any idea how cool it is you bought these for me?”
“I wanted us to take tonight to enjoy the little things.” I shrug as she reaches out to squeeze my hand. “Besides, no one will ever regret the time they spend blowing bubbles.”
“Never,” she whispers softly before breaking the moment and looking away, almost as if she’s afraid I’ll look too deeply inside her and see the feelings written all over her face.
She opens the bottle as I finish pouring the wine, and by the time I’ve handed her a glass, she’s blowing a blizzard of bubbles around us. We dig into the cheese and chocolate, all smiles even though we are in a fierce battle, first over who can blow the biggest bubble and then who can get a bubble to travel the farthest before it pops.
“Yes! See! Mine is definitely bigger!” I raise my arms in triumph as her laughter booms around me.
“I guess I’m a lucky woman then since yours is the biggest,” she says sarcastically. Glancing over, I spot a small bubble still on the top of her hair.
“Lucky you,” I murmur as I reach out to cup the side of her face, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. But deep down I know I’m the lucky one. Hands down. I lean forward to show her just that – that her being here with me is so much more than a mere consequence of workplace attraction that will fade when the assignment ends – and brush my lips against hers.
Our kiss deepens, then lingers as we pour all of the emotions we feel into it. I lean back some, prop myself up on an elbow, and brush the hair away from her cheek as I stare into her eyes. There are so many things I want to say, so many things I want to confess and need her to know, but the words die on my tongue because all I can think of is, how in the hell did I find this incredible woman in this hellish place?
“Tanner?” she murmurs with lips swollen from my kisses and with a desirous expression in her eyes.
“Hmm?” Her body is so warm and inviting that I’m more focused on the feel of her against me than on what she’s going to say next.
“I’ve fallen in love with you. How are you going to handle that one?”
All I can do is stare at her as my heart tumbles in my chest and every nerve ending in my body reacts viscerally to her words. I don’t know what the fuck this feeling is, but I know the sound of those words being said to me scares me and exhilarates me like never before. I just sit there, my face inches from hers as a slow, smug smile tugs up the corners of my mouth. The words to echo her admission stall on my lips.
