The Lucky in Love Collection - Lauren Blakely Page 0,53

Like she doesn’t want to look away.

“Thank you.” Her words are soft and breathy, and they ghost across my skin, weaving around me. She takes my hand, squeezes. “I mean it, Gabe. Thank you. For all of this.” She waves around at her house, and I furrow my brow.

“What do you mean?”

She takes a breath as if she’s fortifying herself. “For letting me try new things.”

My heart vaults out of my chest, skidding at her feet. “You don’t have to thank me.”

She swallows. “But I do. You’re my friend, and that means you make me feel safe, but somehow, you make me feel beautiful too. I don’t know how you do it, but you do.”

I close my eyes for a second, processing her words. It’s no mystery to me why I make her feel beautiful. None whatsoever, but I need to demystify it for her, and soon.

I shake my head, trying to form words.

“What is it?” Her voice rises.

I take a breath, look at her again. It’s hard to look away. “Thank you for trusting me to be the one you try new things with.”

“There’s no one else I’d want as a guide.”

No one else.

The one.

That’s what I want. For all her explorations to begin and end with me. “But there is one more thing you wanted to try, I believe?”

“What is that?” Curiosity weaves through her tone.

I make a circling gesture with my finger. “Turn around, Arden.”

A wicked grin takes hold of her mouth and widens. She spins halfway.

I point to the living room wall. “Hands against the wall.”

She bends forward, dipping into a beautiful, enticing L. I move behind her, sucking in a harsh breath through my teeth as I enjoy the peek at her ass, her cheeks barely covered by the lace panties.

“Ready?”

“So ready.” A tremble moves through her body, and it’s the most sensual thing I’ve ever seen. It’s evidence, the physical manifestation of all I’ve been seeing in her eyes these last few days. A true and real desire. All I can think about is whether one quick slide of my hand to cup her between her legs would reveal if she’s on the edge too.

But that’s not what I said I’d do.

Instead, I raise my hand then lower it, swatting her ass.

“Oh!” she yelps.

I rub my hand over the flesh. “Did it hurt?”

She nods. “But do it again.”

I laugh. “You little junkie.”

I swat her other cheek then soothe it with my palm.

I’m so damn tempted to plant a kiss on those pink cheeks. To grab her luscious ass and squeeze hard. But this will have to suffice, and if I’m doing it right, I’ll leave her wanting more.

I give one more swat then grab her waist, yank her up, and whisper, “Now feed me, woman.”

And that tremble? It turns into a full-body shudder.

I don’t know how the hell I’m going to make it through this meal.

I’m so sad.

I completely understand the sad panda saying now.

Because Arden is now dressed.

She’s serving dinner in . . . wait for it . . . clothes.

Cue the tears.

But the chicken stir-fry she’s made is heavenly, and I can’t complain about her cooking.

I try to remember my dad’s words—focus on the friendship. But now that I’ve seen her in a bra and panties—dear God, has a bra and pair of panties ever looked as good on a woman as they do on her?—I can’t unsee it.

Can’t unsee the apron either.

Can’t unsee anything.

Nor can I unhear the thank you.

The vulnerability in her voice. The way she wanted me to know that what we’ve done—and not done—matters to her.

“Do you realize how useful you’d be at the end of the world?” she asks as she picks up the plates at the end of the meal.

I grab them from her and take them to the sink. “That’s random. Why are you asking that?”

“You have real skills. You can put out fires and build them.”

“You think I should become an arsonist at the end of the world?”

“I’m just thinking about the things the ladies at the book club said today.” She turns on the faucet.

“What did they say?”

She tells me about the conversation, and her voice is pitched higher, and that’s when it hits me. She’s nervous.

I move in behind her and turn off the water. “Let’s do the dishes later. Let’s just sit and talk now.”

“About the end of the world?”

I shake my head, grab the bottle of wine along with two glasses, and guide her out of the kitchen and to