Leah’s fingers clenched around her wineglass.
“Or if you weren’t wet before, I bet you are now,” he murmured. “I remember how much you like the way my fingers rub against you, Leah. Slow and teasing and—”
“Well this is interesting,” a voice interrupted.
Leah didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until it whooshed out in agonized relief at the interruption.
She whipped her head around just in time to see Alexis Morgan and her assistant making their way over to their table.
In a crowd dressed mostly in Hamptons beach casual, Alexis’s royal-blue sleeveless sweater dress should have looked amiss, but of course, this being Alexis, she instead looked like she owned the entire place.
Leah caught her friend’s surprised lift of the eyebrows as they hugged.
Leah only rolled her eyes in response. Girl code for I’ll tell you later; don’t make it weird.
Alexis and Jason exchanged quick friendly pecks on the cheek.
“Not going to lie, when I got in today, I half expected to find one of you gloating over the other’s dead body,” Alexis said.
“That’s definitely on the docket for later,” Leah said.
“And yet, she agreed to have dinner with me,” Jason said, giving a very self-satisfied smirk.
“Yes, that is interesting,” Alexis murmured.
Leah’s only response was a roll of the eyes, because the truth was . . . she didn’t have the faintest clue what had made her say yes to Jason Rhodes’s dinner invitation.
At first it had been about proving a point, mostly to herself, that she could work with an ex-boyfriend without letting her personal feelings get in the way of a job.
But by the time she’d made it back to her room after drinking her white wine too quickly, suddenly she was feeling a whole lot less “modern career woman” and a lot more “lust-addled moron.”
The entire time she’d been getting ready she’d tried to talk herself out of dinner—they could divvy up photography tasks by email, for God’s sake. Or by daylight. Safe, rational, very unsexy daylight.
She’d tried to remember all of the pain, all of the reasons she absolutely should keep her distance.
And even after she’d met him in the lobby, her brain had tried to come up with rationalizations: that she hadn’t wanted to eat alone, that she’d wanted to prove to him and herself that she was over him.
But the truth was, sitting across from him today when he’d come to terrorize her in the lobby bar of their hotel had caused memories to come flooding back, and not the bad ones. At least not just the bad ones.
So tonight—for tonight only—she was letting herself take a walk down memory lane with blinders on. To remember what it had been like when they could talk for hours, the way he could make her laugh . . . and yes, maybe the way his cinnamon-flavored tongue had tasted, the way it had felt when it trailed down her neck and lower . . .
Leah coughed and gulped some water. Both Alexis and Jason were staring at her. Alexis in amusement, Jason with a sexy-eyed smolder, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Alexis cleared her throat. “So the hotel’s good?”
“Yes, gorgeous,” Leah said, latching on to something to think about other than Jason’s hands and tongue. “How’d you get it on such short notice?”
Alexis lifted a shoulder. “Can’t take credit for it. Mr. Preston rented out the entire B and B for the wedding vendors. The florist, videographer, me, you guys . . .”
Alexis continued speaking. Something about the schedule and a snafu with the chair covers for the reception and how the singer of the band had a throat tickle.
But Leah had stopped listening, and from the heat coming off Jason, she had a feeling he had, too.
His eyes drifted down, resting on her lips before he slowly let his gaze run over the rest of her, lingering on all the spots she wanted him to touch.
Alexis looked at Leah. “Do you want to grab a drink later?”
“Hmm?” Leah asked, still distracted by the heat in Jason’s gaze.
Alexis snorted. “I’m thinking that’s a no on the drink, then.”
Leah forced herself to look up at her friend, who lifted an amused eyebrow. “No, I’d love to grab a drink,” she blurted, her enthusiasm sounding forced even to her own ears. “Jason and I will be done soon.”
“No,” he interrupted, “we won’t.”
Leah opened her mouth to retort, but Alexis’s soft touch on her shoulder stopped her. “Call me later.”
“Wait, I—”
But Alexis had already moved away with a playful wink.
“Damn it, Jason,” Leah said, glaring at him. “Why’d you let her think that we were . . . you know.”
He picked up his wineglass and pinned her with a wide-eyed, innocent gaze. “We were what?”
“Never mind,” she muttered. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”
“Charming?” he asked.
“Presumptuous,” she corrected. “Contrary to the delusions in your head, you’re not every woman’s fantasy.”
“I never wanted to be every woman’s fantasy. Just yours.”