He groaned and tipped his head back. “We’re hanging out a lot. It’d be stupid not to enjoy it. We said no dating, but I think if we keep the ground rules clear, we could enjoy ourselves together in something that’s not work or duty or with friends.” He turned off the ignition, unbuckled his seat belt, and faced her. “There’s a lot of other stuff between ‘just friends’ and a committed relationship.”
“Go ahead and explain it to me.” She was staring at his mouth. “But be quick.”
He closed his eyes as if for control, and she felt wickedly content that she affected him as much as he did her.
“We could just date casually,” he said in a husky voice.
She knew he was trying to seem very casual, but after that kiss, it was too late. His gaze was openly traveling down her body, and she was glad she wasn’t wearing the raincoat. She unbuckled her seat belt, and he watched her like she was doing a striptease.
Her brain was having a heated debate, ping-ponging between letting her know this might be a mistake and slyly whispering that she could control something so harmless as dating.
She couldn’t lie to herself—she liked his kisses, liked the way he was looking at her, as if he’d been resisting showing his interest and now couldn’t get enough of the sight of her. It made her feel like a desirable woman, something the last few years of her marriage had taken away—she’d thought for good.
His eyes narrowed when she didn’t say anything. “Well, Em? Tell me what you think.”
“I—” She glanced away, suddenly realizing that her doubts and fears were bubbling to the surface. “I’m not sure I know anything about dating, Nate. And that’s the truth. As for that first night when we kissed, alcohol had a lot to do with it.”
He made a dismissive sound. “I don’t believe that for a minute. Or is that just what you’ve been telling yourself?”
“Maybe.” She looked down, picking at a thread in her sundress. “You have to understand. I had crushes on boys in high school, and the occasional date, but when I met Greg in college, I fell hard. We both knew we saw marriage in our future.”
He reached for her hand, and she let him, enjoying too much the way he gently rubbed her fingers. His own were rough with calluses, large and very male.
“Then think of this as an experiment,” he urged, obviously trying to win her with his dimpled smile.
She softly laughed. “An experiment? But aren’t you the master at dating? Won’t it be beneath you to try to teach a neophyte like me?”
He began to tug on her hand. She had no choice but to come up on her knees, even as he leaned back against the driver’s door. He put up the armrest so that nothing separated them on the bench seat. He gave another tug until she was forced to put her other hand on his chest to brace herself or fall into his lap.
“I don’t think I’ll be bored,” he said huskily, threading his hand into her hair and cupping her neck to draw her closer. “Let’s find out. Kiss me, Em.”
He spoke those words so close to her that she felt his breath on her mouth. Those green eyes held her, challenged her, intrigued her. She leaned in for the kiss, and admitted to herself that he’d been right—alcohol had had nothing to do with the attraction that simmered between them.
She kept the kiss light, playfully teasing his lips with her own, learning the soft touch of him, exploring the way each kiss heightened her rising need. She hadn’t felt this way about a man in so long, eager and desperate, afraid and fearless all at the same time.
She lifted her head and stared at him, still only touching with her hands and nothing else. “Were you bored?” she whispered.
He groaned and closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against the window. “If you get a little closer, you’ll see how not bored I am.”
Then he lifted his head and kissed her, not giving her a chance to change her mind. He held her head to his, deepening the kiss, his mouth hot and open on hers. When his tongue teased hers, she groaned, and could have easily tumbled into his lap for more.
She lifted her head again, gasping. “Okay, okay . . . you’ve made your point.”