didn’t act, she’d regret it. It was past time to get on with her life.
She steadied her gaze on Riley, who looked puzzled, but waited to see what she wanted, his smile broader with each step she took toward him. She stopped inches away.
“Hello there,” he said softly.
“It’s my birthday…”
“I gathered that.”
“And when I blew out my candles, I promised myself the next time you walked in here, I would…”
What? Ask you out? Not dramatic enough for her birthday high, for Riley’s magical reappearance, for the hopeful crowd behind her. She’d already leaped off the cliff. Now it was time to fly. “Just…this.” She rose on her tiptoes and planted her lips on his.
For a second, she feared he’d break it off, but after the briefest hesitation, he tilted his head, deepened the kiss and pulled her into his arms.
His mouth was warm and firm, and he tasted of rich, dark coffee, and she was so glad she’d taken the leap.
Her friends roared and whistled, which finally made her laugh and she broke away. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“No, thank you,” he said, his smile wicked. He still held her at the waist.
Unsure of her next move, she was relieved when Sadie bustled over with her purse. “Go on. Have fun. We’ll pack up your gift and whatever’s left of that incredible cake.”
“Are you sure?” she said.
“Yes!” the entire group said in unison. Their laughter trailed her and Riley out the door, as though they were newlyweds off on their honeymoon.
Once outside in the sudden quiet of the spring night, Chloe became painfully aware she’d just kissed a man to whom she’d never said more than “Booth or table?” and “Your server will be with you in a moment.”
“Thanks for going along with me,” she said, stepping off the sidewalk between two cars. “It was out of the blue and a crazy sort of dare and I’ve had champagne and—”
Riley cut her off with a kiss, pulling her into his arms and taking his time, exploring her mouth as comfortably as if they’d been lovers for years.
She relaxed into the moment, not wanting it to end. If this were a movie, the director would cut to a bed and their naked bodies in golden lamplight. There would be no tense seconds, no awkward fussing with zippers and clasps and discussions of prophylactics and blood tests.
She leaned back.
Honk…honk…honk…honk…honk. The car alarm she’d set off brought her back to reality. She was no screen star embracing the man of her dreams. She was Chloe Baxter, talented cook with a problem father, a flaky sister and a cranky cat. Her goofy birthday promise had her making out in a parking lot like a hormone-crazed teenager.
Riley laughed good-naturedly, not a bit thrown by the honking. “My house is close and I promise no alarms will go off.” When she hesitated, he added, “It’s reasonably clean, I swear. For a guy.”
“It’s not that. It’s just…”
“Your mama told you not to go home with strange men. I get that. But you know me, Chloe. I’m at Enzo’s all the time. I’m harmless, I swear.” He crossed his heart. “If I misbehave, my dog will pin me to the ground and gnaw my nuts off.” He looked so sturdy and sweet and trustworthy, she could only laugh.
“You in?” he asked, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight.
“Let me see…” She rose on tiptoe to kiss him again. His lips were strong, yet soft, his kiss slow and urgent, and she went boneless with desire. “I’m in,” she breathed, hoping the kiss would prolong her courage.
Riley seemed to sense her doubts. “You call the shots, you know. You’re the birthday girl. We can have a beer, watch TV, play cards or, hell, do you like Guitar Hero?”
She laughed, feeling surprisingly comfortable with the man.
“Or we could hit a bar if you’d rather.”
“No. Let’s go to your place.” Something about this man and this moment made it right. She felt different. New. Ready for anything. Well, not anything. And not entirely different. Just enough for tonight. She shivered in anticipation.
“You cold?” Riley asked, running his hands up and down her arms as if to warm her.
“Just excited, I think.”
“Good, then. Let’s go.” He gave her his address and she followed his vintage red Mustang the few blocks to his house, her heart pounding, her toes and fingers tingling, her stomach fluttering with a million butterflies. The champagne buzz was gone, so it had to be nervous excitement she felt.
Riley held her door for her, then led her up the walk, a gentlemanly arm around her shoulders.
At his front door, she stopped. “This isn’t like me, you know. I’m usually cautious and careful and, I don’t know…”
He waited for her to figure it out.
“Boring,” she said, realizing it was true. “Utterly dull.”
“You’re sure not boring me,” he said, kissing her again, soft and coaxing and warm and sure.
When he opened the door, they were greeted by a barrel-chested dog with wispy black-and-white fur—an oversize Chihuahua on stilt legs who galloped around them, barking.
“This is the guy who’s supposed to knock you to the ground if you get fresh with me?” she teased.
“Oh, you don’t want to get on his bad side,” he said, bending to the dog’s level. “He’s ferocious, aren’t you, boy?”
She bent down, too, glad of the distraction. The sudden intimacy of being in Riley’s home made her feel awkward.
“This is Idle,” he told her.
“Nice to meet you.” She patted the dog, who was remarkably ugly but had the warmest eyes. “He’s sweet.”
“He’s usually shy with strangers, but he’s taken with you. So am I.” He leaned over the dog to kiss her.
Her lust surged again, telling her she wanted more from this man, this night, though she wasn’t sure how much.
He helped her to her feet, holding both her hands, then led her to the sofa. “Would you like coffee to clear your head?”
“My head is clear. Or reasonably clear.” She laughed, still a little uncertain how she’d gotten here. “I only had a little champagne really.”
“A beer then?”
She stayed away from alcohol as a rule. She’d tested herself in high school to be certain she didn’t have her father’s disease, deliberately getting drunk to see if a craving commenced. She’d thrown up lemon
