Page 51 of Anchor (First to Fight)

He pulls me closer, hands still massaging my back and lulling me into complacency. “No, don’t pull away. I like how you feel against me.” He presses a kiss to my hair and I remember that he did the same thing when we were on the ferry. “I was perfectly content to go on living my life as I had been. And then you crashed in and changed all of my plans. What are you doing to me?” he whispers.

I stretch up to nibble his ear. “Anything you want,” I reply.

He chuckles, and the sound warms me from the inside out. “We don’t have much time to waste and I want to spend it getting to know you more. So, I know we’ve done this backward, considering we’ve already essentially slept together. But, Chloe McKinney…” he pauses for one long heartbeat, making my breath catch in my throat. “Would you like to have dinner? Officially?”

My heart nearly explodes with joy and I smile so huge that my cheeks hurt. It’s like a dream. I can’t stop the laughter that escapes. I press my lips to his. And it’s sloppy and crazy, but we’re both smiling when we break apart, and on him, God, it’s beautiful. A heart-stopping kind of beautiful.

I peer up at him. “Will you take offense if I say I’m not up for being seen in public just yet?”

“Don’t worry. I know the perfect place and it’s very private. What do you say?”

“I trust you,” I whisper.

He backs away with careful steps, like he doesn’t want to leave either, and I scoot past him. I can feel his eyes following my every movement as I grab clothes from the suitcase I’d already packed up, and head to the bathroom to change.

The only clean outfit I have that’s good enough for an actual date is a ridiculously sexy shift dress that Sienna insisted I take “just in case.” Nerves wage war in my stomach as I slip into it. It flows loosely around my thighs and the arms are long sleeved with slits from shoulder to wrist. The slight tan I have looks phenomenal. My hair can’t be helped, so I brush it out and plait it into a simple braid I let hang over my shoulder.

I don’t bother with any makeup, aside from a little mascara and gloss. He’s already seen me at my worst anyway, and he still wants me. Something about that makes me ridiculously happy.

I give myself one last cursory glance in the mirror and then slip on my sandals. Gabriel is standing by the window looking out at the view. I pad across the room and wrap my arms around his waist. His hands cover mine and he gives me a gentle squeeze. He taps them and I release my hold.

“All ready to go?” He turns and gives me a once over. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you. Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“This great Italian place I know. Trust me, you’re gonna love it.”

Gabriel

“You’re the whole package, aren’t you? Sexy, smart, and now you say you can cook? My hero.” Chloe bats her eyes and settles onto a stool, leaning on my island bar. She crosses her legs and I have to fight not to stare at her. Wisps of hair have broken free of her loose braid to frame her face. She looks good in my house. Like she belongs here.

“A man can’t give away all his secrets, now, can he?” I pause while dicing tomatoes to kiss her soft lips, and then once more for good measure. Responding immediately, her hands slide up to my neck and I almost say to hell with dinner.

I’d forgotten how nice it was to cook for someone other than myself. Chloe spent the last ten minutes entertaining me with stories about the antics of her family and the crazy clients she’s had at the travel agency she helps manage.

“Well, none of the men in my family have ever been able to make more than scrambled eggs. I’ve never wanted a plate of spaghetti more in my life after all the hospital food. Seriously, it smells amazing.”

“Of course it does. Plus, this serves dual purposes. It’s both dinner and a seduction.”

Chloe’s eyes light up. “Oh, is it?” she murmurs.

“You bet. Cooking for a woman is my best move.” I pour the diced tomatoes into the sauce and stir, glancing at her over the steaming pot.

She sets her glass down on the counter and snuggles into my side. “Oh, so this is something you do for all the ladies, huh?”

“Only the special ones.”

“I bet you save all of them, too.” She jabs me in my uninjured ribs and I laugh. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, you don’t worry about it. I’m going to take care of you tonight.” And I mean that in more ways than one, if she’ll let me.

She brushes off my statement and moves to root through my fridge. “Aha,” she exclaims. I turn to find her with arms full of salad mixings. She dumps the supplies on the counter and then turns to search in the cabinets.

“What are you doing?” She bumps her head on the open cabinet and yelps.

“You okay?”

“I’m seeing double, but at least I found a salad bowl.”