Tiger Lily - May Dawson Page 0,21

had the most kissable mouth I’d ever seen.

I added, “Or maybe…I might be disappointed to find that you’re a terrible kisser?”

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me? I am not—”

I leaned in and brushed my lips against hers. They were as soft as they looked, cool to the touch. She still tasted like the lemon from her iced tea that she’d nibbled on at the end of our meal.

She froze. Just for a second.

Then she grabbed my shoulders, kissing me back. Her mouth parted, her fingers clinging to my shoulders as her slender body swayed against mine. As her warm, soft body pressed against mine, my arm circled her waist, drawing her even closer. Even when she was yelling at me, the sight and scent and sound of her voice aroused me, but now there was no denying it; my cock hardened as it brushed against her lower abs.

But Lily didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she liked it. The tip of her tongue danced against mine. I knew we should slow down, but my instincts said I should turn her around against the cinder block wall, cover her neck with kisses, run my hands down her curves… and she looked up at me with luminous, hungry eyes as if she’d like that too.

Mine. She was mine.

But I didn’t dare say that to her yet, so I just kissed her again.

A car horn blared on the street.

Her eyes widened, then she suddenly pulled away from me, her hands dropping to her sides. She let out a shaky laugh as she tucked her hair behind her ears, plastering it to her head as if she needed something to do with her hands—something besides touching me. “What was that?”

“That was proof you’re not a bad kisser,” I said.

“I—” She shook her head as she headed toward the door to the lobby, as if she was coming out of a dream. “I’m a mess, Dylan, and you shouldn’t get involved with me.”

“You’re wrong,” I said.

She stopped, half-in and half-out of the lobby. “I want you to keep thinking that. I don’t want you to get close enough to realize how true it is.”

Then she slammed the door shut behind her so she could get the last word. So she still played that game, huh?

I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand, feeling exasperated with myself. No matter how much she might tease me about my female admirers, I felt like I always said the wrong thing with her.

“What was that all about?” Blake demanded, stepping out of the bay. He didn’t wait for my answer before he plunged on: “Dylan, I was thinking while you were out. We’re her bosses.”

“I don’t think anyone is the boss of Lily,” I disagreed.

“We shouldn’t be kissing her,” he said. “What if it makes her feel weird about working here? The most important thing is that she feels safe and happy in Silver Springs again.”

Blake chewed his lower lip. The expression across his face was all stubborn and protective before he added, “I don’t want us to ruin things here for her. I don’t want her to run back to the city.”

I scoffed at that. We weren’t going to scare her off—Lily was tough.

And sooner or later, she had to realize that Silver Springs was right where she belonged.

“Oh, I’m going to do a lot more than kiss her,” I said. “I’m going to marry that girl.”

10

Lily

“Let’s take a look at your grandpa’s car,” Blake told me. “I figured long-term, you might join us in the auto bay as a mechanic, if you enjoy messing with cars.”

I scoffed at that. “Right.”

He frowned, running his hand through his hair. I wished he wouldn’t do that—he might get grease in his hair.

But he looked damn sexy either way.

“I’m not kidding,” he said simply. “But I know you might not want to stay in Silver Springs.”

He turned and headed for my grandfather’s car. I found myself wondering why I’d dismissed him. I didn’t necessarily want to run right out of Silver Springs.

But I assumed the guys would want me to work the reception desk forever. I didn’t know anything about cars and…well, the truth was, Brad said I couldn’t even be trusted to put together Ikea furniture. He’d said it fondly enough—everyone has their strengths and weaknesses—and there was a permanently crooked bookcase back in our apartment that suggested he might be right.

I didn’t know why Blake would assume I was good enough to be a mechanic, whether