I Thee Bed.... Jule McBride
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“Well, you can’t know what was going on in Jack Stevens’s mind when he took the picture,” Seth pointed out.
“And I don’t want to,” she shot back.
Smiling, he clucked his tongue. “What venom! And for people you don’t even know.”
“And don’t want to,” she repeated, her lips curling.
Lowering his chin, he sent her a long look from under heavily lidded eyes. “Are you really saying you’ve never been sucked into staring at a lurid tabloid headline with curiosity? That you’ve never stopped in your tracks in the street near a news kiosk, just to look at the headlines?”
Crossing her arms, she leaned back in the booth, narrowed her gaze and glared at him playfully. After a long pause, she assured, “Never.”
“Hmm. Never watched Entertainment Tonight?”
She squinted. “You’re trying to make which point?”
“That if you didn’t contribute by becoming part of the market for pictures such as this, the paparazzi would cease to exist. If no one looked, photographers would be out of business. You could cancel your subscription to the Post, you know.” He paused. “Now, tell me you’ve never once bought People magazine.”
Even she could feel the guilty flush creeping into her cheeks. “Not even once,” she lied.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“I didn’t know I had to choose.”
“Playing both sides of the fence?”
“Always.”
“You must be a Gemini.”
“Guess again.”
“Leo.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’ve got a lot of outward charm.”
“Thanks. And you were warm. It’s my rising sign.”
“Ah. Virgo,” she guessed again. “Into control.”
“Nope. Scorpio. In three planets.”
“Dangerous.”
“Sexy. You?”
He was asking for her sun sign, but she only laughed. “Ditto. Very sexy. So I’ve been told.”
“Let me say it to you again then. Sexy.”
“Less so if you’re a two-timer,” she retorted. “Around me, you need to choose sides.”
“If you insist.”
“Okay. So once more, whose side are you on?”
“The one that gets you the most agitated.”
Or aroused.
She was enjoying the banter more than anything in a long time. The past months had been hectic and stressful, but shooting the breeze with Seth made her feel as if weights were being lifted from her shoulders. “You like annoying me?”
His dark eyes were sparkling now, catching the light of the candle. Reaching, he used a forefinger to brush away a lock of hair from her forehead. “Sure do.”
Suddenly, she felt breathless. “Mind telling me why?”
The finger settled on her temple for a split second, then trailed down her cheek before he playfully tapped the tip of her nose and released another low, throaty chuckle. “Because your skin gets flushed,” he began, his voice lowering a husky notch, “and I can see your pulse quickening, and I imagine your heart beating wildly, and your eyes starting to flash fire….”
She couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Usually, seeing a picture such as that in the Post would ruin her day, but tonight, sitting here flirting with Seth Bishop, it hardly seemed to matter. “You have a way with words. I take it I’ve discovered yet another of your talents, Seth.”
“Beyond?”
“Mixing and matching fabrics.”
He rolled his eyes, then bit down on his lower lip with two perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth. “Oh, Edie,” he returned, his eyes locking into hers, “I’ve got plenty of talents beyond what you’ve seen me do in your conference room.”
“You do make a perfect cup of coffee.”
“And so much more.”
She was still imagining what such a comment could mean when a waiter appeared, placing the sampler platter between them, and setting down two plates. Once the man had gone, Seth unwrapped paper from around his chopsticks, then expertly situated them between his fingers, lifted a piece of chicken and held it out, in front of Edie’s lips. So, he was going to feed her now? she thought, feeling a rush of excitement. For the past three days, her life had certainly started to get interesting, and she was glad that she’d opted for the restaurant, instead of taking him to her parents’ apartment. With her folks and Granny Ginny around, she’d never have an opportunity to get to know Seth. Who knew where this could lead?
“The food looks excellent,” he said.
“Because both my parents and I live on this street, we wind up eating here a lot. It’s always good.” Coming closer, she parted her lips and took the bite, feeling juicy tender meat explode inside her mouth. “It’s not the first time I’m glad I didn’t go the vegan route like my sister Marley,” she announced after she’d swallowed.
He winced, shooting her a sympathetic glance. “A vegan?”
“Only food. She hasn’t started wearing the shoes.”
He looked skeptical. “Shoes?”
“Haven’t you heard of that place called Moo Shoe in the East Village?”
“Nope.”
“Pleather goods.”
“Gotcha.”
Edie shrugged as he used the chopsticks to further fish around the platter, her throat tightening as his knee suddenly knocked hers under the table. It instantly corrected itself, pulled away, changed its mind, then found hers again, this time pressuring firmly. He had nice knees, too. Big and hard. More square than rounded. Even though