“Well, if you ever want a tour of our little town, you just let me know.”
“I don’t think we’ll need that,” I blurt out.
Pete raises his brow at me, but his eyes are twinkling so brightly that I can tell he’s amused.
I rush to continue. I drop my voice down to what I hope is a sultry purr. “I really don’t plan to let him out of bed long enough to see the sights.” I laugh. It was close to a twitter.
She freezes. “Oh, I didn’t realize…” she says.
“I can tell,” I toss back. I glare at her, and she has the decency to flush.
“I’ll be right back,” she mutters as she runs from the room.
A noise bubbles up from within Pete. It might be laughter. But if it is, I think he’s going to die from it. He laughs, his shoulders shaking until he falls back to lie on the exam table, his belly rocking as he guffaws out loud. I stand up, walk to his side, and look down at him. “And just what do you find so amusing?” I ask.
He wipes the tears from beneath his eyes with his knuckles. “You had to save me from the nurse,” he cackles. “That’s some funny shit right there,” he says. He’s still wiping his eyes, the laughter starting to die back. “Why did you do that?” he asks. “She was harmless.”
I look toward the door, remembering her beautiful smile; long, dark hair; and please-touch-me personality. I could never compete, at least not with the last part of it. “She was about as harmless as a piranha in a tank full of goldfish.”
He laughs again, big achingly beautiful belly laughs. When it dies down, I realize how close I’m standing to him. He lifts his hand and reaches to place it on my hip. But an inch before it settles there, he says, “I’m going to touch you,” very softly. My heart leaps. “I’m warning you so you won’t hit me.”
“Where?” I whisper. His hand is really close to my hip, but I want to be sure. My pulse thrums.
“Don’t hit me anywhere,” he whispers back playfully.
I roll my eyes at him, but my insides are flipping over themselves.
His hand lands on my hip, warm and strong. It’s not intrusive at all. But I close my eyes because the sensuality of his touch combined with the heat in his eyes makes me want to run far, far away. I don’t, though. I let him touch my hip.
“That’s not so bad, is it?” he asks quietly.
I shake my head. “It’s all right, I suppose,” I say softly. I can barely take a breath, much less talk. He sits up and very gently leads me to stand between his legs with gentle pressure at my waist.
“Do you want to hit me?” he asks.
I shake my head and finally let my gaze meet his. “No,” I say quietly.
“If you did, it would be worth it,” he says softly. His nose touches mine, his lips a mere breath away. I lay my hand on his stomach, and I feel the muscles contract. I jerk my hand back, but he puts his over mine and presses it gently against him. “I like it when you touch me,” he says. “You can do it any time you want.”
He brushes his nose gently against mine in little eskimo kisses. His lips hover over mine, but they never meet, and I feel like I might pass out from the fear that comes with wanting him to kiss me so badly. “Kiss me,” I say.
He freezes, and his hand tightens on my hip. “Nope.” He shakes his head.
I pull my head back and look into his eyes. “It’s all right,” I say. “I want to try it.”
He sets me back from him. “Nope,” he says again. He shakes his head even more vehemently.
“Why not?” I can’t believe I’m begging this man to kiss me. Is this what I’ve been reduced to?
He heaves a sigh. “I’m not going to kiss you because I can’t tell if you want to kiss me or if you want to kiss someone you don’t think is a threat for practice.”
“What if it’s a little bit of both?” I ask.
He shakes his head, and I think he might be a little bit pissed. “When you feel an overwhelming desire to kiss me—” He stops and pats his chest. “—When you want to kiss Pete,” he says. “I’ll kiss you. If you want to practice, you can find someone else to help you out.”
I don’t understand. “It’s just a kiss.”
He takes my chin in a gentle grip and forces me to look into his eyes. “When I finally kiss you, it’s going to be because you want to kiss me, Pete, the man, the one who looks at you with wonder in his eyes, the one who is so f**king scared of these brand-new feelings for you that he sometimes can’t breathe, the one who is dying to taste you. I have thought about you almost every day since I met you, princess, and I don’t want to get you off my mind.” He kisses the tip of my nose quickly and pulls back. “But when I kiss you, it’s going to be because you have a thing for me that’s as big as the thing I have for you.”
I can’t help it. I look toward his lap. He chuckles.
“Yeah, that too,” he says with a laugh.
“So what do we do now?” I ask. I can’t believe it. The first time I have wanted to kiss someone since the assault and he’s too much of a gentleman to take me up on it.
“Let’s go shopping,” he says. He nods, as though he’s thinking it over. “Do we have to be in a hurry to get back to camp?”
I shrug. We probably should. “Dad will light up my phone if I’m not back in an hour or two.”