Page 19 of One Night Stand After Another
“I like that noise,” he told her. “It’s almost as sexy as the noise you make when I put my tongue on you.”
“Zane, seriously?”
“You want me to stay awake, right? Can you think of a better way?” he asked innocently, stroking his thumb down the center of her palm. Their touch had a language all its own. She might protest his dirty talk, but her hand embraced his. Her fingers met him stroke for stroke. Their hands were practically snuggling. It wasn’t sweaty or awkward. It was arousing as hell. He felt so comfortable touching her, it was disturbing, because she wanted to get out of his truck in Philly and say goodbye.
He needed to figure out how to win more time with her, but thinking was difficult to do when he was touching her. He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. Her skin was so soft. He brushed the back of her hand against his lips, and then kissed it again.
“Zane, I can’t.” She pulled out of his grip. “I really appreciate you driving me, but I wanted to keep last night…to just last night. Maybe I should have said no and driven myself.”
Everything in him objected. “Renting a car would have slowed you down. Whether you want to hold my hand or not, I’m still happy to drive you. I like driving, I like you, and I love cheese steak. It’s fine. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Awkwardly, she nodded. “Okay. I do appreciate it.”
He shot her a side eye. “As did I.”
She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled. “I’ll behave, but I want it known that last night was amazing, and when you get back to New York after this, I’d love it if you hit me up.”
Silence.
He glanced away from the road to her tense expression.
“I’m going to LA for a job interview. If I get an offer, I’m staying there,” she said. “I’m not coming back.”
His gut clenched. “Wow—I had no idea.”Obviously, you dumbass. You don’t know her anymore.Did he think making her come was the same as knowing what makes her tick?
He cleared his throat. “What’s in Los Angeles?”
A smile like the sunrise dawned, driving away the distance she’d put between them. “The Fiber King.”
“Really? Los Angeles is the Promised Land for knitters? And it’s ruled by a man? Not to be sexist, but really?”
Clara rolled her eyes. “Yes, really. He’s not actually called the Fiber King, that’s just my nickname for him. James Buchanan owns Fiber Kingdom, which is the biggest online resource for fiber enthusiasts. There’s a huge online store, patterns, videos, a blog…the site basically has everything and anything related to fiber arts, and it’s based in LA. I’ve got an interview. It’s always been my dream to live near the beach.”
“Honestly, I thought you were going to do that after high school, but I heard you went to college instead. A scholarship to the University at Buffalo, right?”
“It was a great experience.”
Her tone was stiff, so he glanced over to check her expression. Equally wooden.
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic,” he said.
“It wasn’t my first choice, but I decided it wasn’t smart to turn down a great deal at one of the best business schools in the country.”
“You majored in business?”
“Yeah. I got my MBA.”
“Damn, that’s awesome. Maybe you could give me some pointers on how to run my businesses.”
She smirked back at him. “You seem to be doing just fine.”
He was glad she thought so. But Mr. Calabrese’s heart attack and slow recovery, his growing friendship with Jack, the wedding, especially that moment in the ceremony where they said, “to have and to hold” to each other, all of that had been making him feel restless lately—like he was missing out.
Without a doubt, his competitive instincts had been the driving force in his life. Without them, he’d be making minimum wage behind the line in a restaurant, working his guts out every evening, probably partying all night, and starting over at noon the next day. But he’d wanted to open a restaurant before Jack did. He’d wanted aTimesreview before Jack got one. But he’d done all that. It hadn’t done a damn thing to fill the empty hole inside him.
With a start, he remembered the opportunity Jack had dangled in front of him last night. Zane had left the reception with Clara without finding out anything about it. Had he ever put his personal life before business?
No.
