pasted on her best campaign smile. “I want my grandfather to win the election. He is by far the best candidate. Let me tell you why.”
Sortie one. A draw.
Carter folded his napkin at the end of the meal and battled frustration. Strategic withdrawal. Reevaluate the strategy. Approach from a different flank.
Phoebe had installed razor wire around herself in the past twelve years. She’d carefully sidestepped all personal questions and remained immune to every suggestive comment or look. Seducing her wouldn’t be as easy as he’d expected.
A heavy hand descended on his shoulder. Carter jerked his gaze upward and found Sam at his shoulder. He rose and returned Sam’s salute. “Great chow as usual, Sam.”
“You’re too kind, Captain,” Sam said in a voice heavily laced with sarcasm. “Who’s the pretty lady?”
Phoebe’s eyes widened as she took in all six feet, six inches of his forty-year-old, hard-as-nails, kick-your-ass-and-enjoy-it friend. Sam would be one scary dude to run into in an alley, and he didn’t look like any chef Carter had ever encountered, but he’d been a damned good Marine and a real team player.
“Phoebe, this is Sam Kalas. He kept our platoon fed. His cooking has been known to make a four-star general get on his knees and beg for seconds. Sam’s the owner and chef of this place.”
“Part owner,” Sam corrected. “Without your bucks to back up my cooking, I’d still be slinging military rations and living in the barracks. Instead I get to cook food that looks and tastes good and live upstairs in these swanky digs.”
Phoebe shot a surprised glance in Carter’s direction and extended her hand to Sam. “My compliments to the chef.”
“Thanks, ma’am.” Sam’s black eyes pinned Carter. “When Suzie told me you’d called for a reservation for two, I decided to come out to see who’d make you break your fast.”
Carter’s ears burned under Phoebe’s speculative gaze. So he didn’t date much these days. Big deal. CyberSniper came first. But Sam had handed him the perfect opportunity to pay Phoebe back for making their past dates a dirty secret. He let his mouth tip in a smile his corps buddy wouldn’t misunderstand. “Phoebe’s an old friend.”
Sam’s speculative gaze fixed on Phoebe’s red cheeks. He nodded. “Nice meeting you, ma’am. I’ve been working on a new dessert recipe all week. Can I tempt you folks?”
“We really have to run,” Phoebe replied before Carter could. “But thank you.”
Carter considered the potency of Sam’s concoctions and weighed the odds of salvaging the evening. Curiosity urged him to try any means at his disposal to see if Phoebe’s kiss still packed the old punch he remembered. “How about a carry-out?”
A smartass grin spread across Sam’s face. “Whatever you want, Captain.”
With another sharp salute, Sam returned to the kitchen.
Phoebe’s jaw and spine looked rigid enough to snap. “I won’t have dessert with you.”
The kiss Carter wanted looked like a slim possibility, but he’d always enjoyed fighting against the odds. “What makes you think I’m willing to share? But you don’t know what you’re missing, Phoebe. Sam’s desserts are like sex in a spoon.” He winked. “A smart woman would reconsider.”
Three
“Try a little sin, Phoebe. You’ll like it.”
Phoebe shifted on her feet in the moonlight-flooded driveway of Carter’s home and tried to ignore her body’s traitorous response to the invitation in his huskily murmured words. Every self-preservation instinct within her screamed, Run, but she couldn’t. Carter had her caged between his broad chest, the open door of his car and the seat she’d just vacated. A balmy evening breeze caressed her sensitized skin.
He passed the open container holding the rich-smelling chocolate dessert beneath her nose and her mouth watered.
“What do you know? Sam included a couple of disposable spoons.” Carter scooped up a bite of the creamy concoction and lifted it to Phoebe’s lips.
She shouldn’t be tempted by the man or his decadent dessert. She’d never forgive herself for succumbing to the first, and her hips would pay the price for sampling the second. But this entire escapade with Carter was ill-advised and thorny, and she deserved a reward for holding strong against his potent charm all evening. It hadn’t been easy.
She opened her mouth and Carter fed her. Dark chocolate, sweet cherry and rich cream flavors merged on her tongue. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. Heaven. Bliss. No, better. Rolling the tastes around in her mouth, she searched for the perfect words to describe the dessert without success.
She licked her lips. “That is truly amazing.”
Carter set the container on the roof of his car and leaned closer until only inches separated their faces. His breath fanned her cheek and the look of intent in his eyes made her insides quiver.
“Almost as good as sex,” he said a whisper away from her mouth. “Want to come in and share?”
Phoebe cursed her weakening knees and the way the fine hairs on her body rose to attention. My God, he was playing her and her stupid hormones were falling for it. She ignored the rapid pounding of her heart, blocked his forward progress with a hand to his chest and glared at him.
“Would you quit the Casanova routine already?”
He observed her through narrowed eyes. “You think I’m trying to put the moves on you?”
She arched an eyebrow and aimed for sarcasm, but it wasn’t easy when her body ached for what he offered. “Aren’t you? The question is why?”
His jaw shifted, then he rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands into his pants pockets, giving her some much-needed space. “I’m curious. Aren’t you?”
“About what?” she asked even though she suspected she knew the answer.
“Whether it would be as good between us as it used to be.”
Her stomach plunged to her pumps. Yes, the thought had crossed her mind a few times since making the decision to seek out Carter, but she had no intention of satisfying her curiosity. The last time she had, he’d stolen her heart and shattered it into tiny irreparable fragments.
She forced a casual shrug and lied through a dismissive smile. “Not really. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get home. Enjoy your dessert.”
Shoving past him, Phoebe beat a hasty retreat to her car. She fumbled with her seat belt until it clicked and glanced at Carter one last time before throwing the car in reverse. And then she remembered she’d forgotten to collect. Argh. She shoved the gearshift back into park, rolled down her window and stuck out her hand.
“The picture,” she called, and wiggled her fingers. “Please get the picture. I’ll wait here.”
Carter sauntered toward her. His casual stride contradicted the stiff set of his shoulders and the
