you’re a part of this wedding, too, and with Trent and Alana not here, we’re it. So, open.”
Once again, he did as instructed even though a voice inside his head told him to put his foot down. Utter nonsense.
But the piece of cake she fed him was good.
“Oooh. You like that one, don’t you?”
“Wait,” he said through a mouth full of white cake with some kind of strawberry frosting that was so good he wanted another bite. “What makes you think I like it?”
She reached for another box. “You’re like a newspaper. I can read the headlines from a mile away. Here’s another one.”
How the hell did she do it? How had she gotten him to eat—almost literally—out of her hand, and why was he fighting so hard to keep his face free of expression as he tasted the next piece?
“You don’t like that one, either. Okay. Next.”
“What?” He swallowed. Actually, he almost gagged. Ugh. Nasty, greasy frosting. “You didn’t even give me time to taste it.”
“I could tell the minute your mouth closed, and I don’t blame you for disliking that one. I didn’t like it, either.”
“Ah,” he muttered. “So you’re the one that’s biased. See. You should just decide for me.”
“I’m not biased. Some of the cakes I really liked and other ones I didn’t. Rana, too. You’re the tiebreaker.”
She held up the fork again. He eyed the piece she was about to feed him. After that last one, he should be more cautious.
“I’m not a big fan of cream fillings,” he admitted, eyeing the white cake and white frosting.
“Me, neither, but taste it just the same. You might be surprised.”
But she missed, her other hand instantly lifting to help push the cake into his mouth, her fingers grazing his lips.
He nearly gasped.
Zapped by an electric fence, that was what it felt like. As if a million joules of energy stole his breath away. He froze.
“Well?”
His taste buds failed to function, too. So did his heart. And his lungs.
“Good,” he managed to mumble.
“Just good?”
It took every ounce of control not to jerk away. Not to jump to his feet and dash away.
“I like the strawberry one better.”
She nodded. He sat there.
What the hell was that?
But he knew. That was more than mere sexual attraction. That was want. That was need. That was trouble.
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