so low he wasn’t sure whether she spoke it aloud or it came from her thoughts. “Coconut cream pie.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A FEW MINUTES before seven, Mackenzie stood in front of the heavy steel entry door of Dom’s loft. She took a deep breath to quiet her pounding heart, but it ignored her and raged on.
After yesterday’s impetuous decision to have dinner with Dom, she wasn’t sure whether to kick herself for being swept away by his charm or congratulate herself for following Martin’s advice to live in the moment. Either way, she was nervous standing here, wondering what was in store for her on the other side of the door.
Could she do it? Have sex with someone she hardly knew? Of course, she could be wrong. It was entirely possible that he intended only to cook dinner for her. But she wasn’t a total fool. As she’d lain in bed last night, trying without much success to fall asleep, she’d decided she had to expect it could come to that. Dinner at a restaurant would be one thing, but dinner at his place was a whole different scenario.
Shifting the bottle of wine to her other hand, she checked her bag, making sure her overnight items were tucked safely at the bottom. Not sure if it was customary to spend the night after a one-night stand, she’d brought a few things just in case. And if nothing happened, well, at least she’d come prepared.
She straightened her spine and rang the bell.
Mackenzie thought she was prepared to see Dom this time. She willed herself to be strong, calm and focused. They were just two people who were going to have dinner together. But she forgot all that when the door swung open.
Barefoot, with an untucked shirt and jeans, Dom stood casually enough in the doorway, a dish towel tossed carelessly over a shoulder and his hair pulled loosely into a ponytail, but his unpolished attire only heightened his unorchestrated sexuality.
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think of a thing to say; her eyes seemed to be the only body part functioning.
He wore a stack of black leather bracelets on one wrist, with those ornately carved rings she’d noticed before on each thumb, and when he reached for her to invite her in, her mouth felt as if it had been swabbed with a giant ball of cotton. The only way he could look any better was if he were naked and her hands were exploring his body. A rush of heat rose to her face and she averted her gaze for a moment in an attempt to collect herself.
“Welcome back.” He dipped his head, touching his lips to her cheek, then shut the door behind her.
Her nostrils flared as she inhaled the warm scent of his cologne. She felt her body arch toward him, wanting the smell to stay as concentrated as possible in her lungs. Normally she didn’t care for a man’s potent aftershave but his was heavenly, almost addictive. She thrust the wine bottle into his hands.
“Thank you.” His eyes raked her up and down then crinkled at the corners. “You look great. We’re a matched pair.”
She glanced at her lacy brown cardigan and smoothed down the fabric of her colorful dress. It coordinated perfectly with his chocolate brown shirt. She liked the way that sounded—a matched pair—and smiled up at him. “Thanks. We must be on the same wavelength tonight.”
“Yes, there does seem to be an uncanny connection between us.” He paused and a shiver of excitement prickled her skin. “How was parking? I hope you used my building valet.”
“I…uh…had to take a cab. It’s raining and I didn’t want to drive the motorcycle.”
“Do you not own a sedan? Is the Triumph your only mode of transportation?”
“It is right now. My mother’s car is in the repair shop.” She liked that he referred to her— “How did you know I drive a Triumph?”
Something flashed across his expression then was gone.
“Bonneville. I saw it parked outside the art school and assumed it was yours. A woman like you on a Bonnie is hard to forget.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she smiled and looked around as he ushered her inside. Her gaze fell to an ethereal blown-glass sculpture, lit from above, displayed magnificently on a wooden stand near the windows. How could she have missed that vibrant yellow color and the unmistakable fluted shape when she was here last week?