Chasing Christmas Eve (Heartbreaker Bay #4)

“Now slowly let off the brake,” he said, “and ease on the gas. Emphasis on ease.”

She didn’t exactly ease, but hey, she didn’t stomp either, and then they were making their way across the empty lot, weaving because she was checking out the complicated-looking GPS system on the dash.

“You’ve got this thing rigged for a Mars excursion,” she said.

“Watch the road, not the screen,” he warned, eyeing the planter along the parking lot, the one lined with full-grown trees.

“No, but seriously, what are all these gadgets for?”

“I’ll tell you later.” They were getting closer to the trees. “Honey, watch the road.”

“I’m not on the road. We’re in a parking lot.”

“Which is a good thing considering you’re taking up the equivalent of four lanes. Going to have to lock it down to graduate to the road.”

“How’s this? Better?”

He paused.

She risked a look at him.

He grimaced. “Yes?”

“Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re a really bad liar.”

“Maybe because I’m distracted by the planter you’re heading for. Trees, Colbie. Lots of trees.”

“Son of a biscuit!” She swerved wildly, then slammed the brakes so that they both came up against their seatbelts hard enough to rattle some teeth loose.

“Huh,” she said. “You know, this really isn’t nearly as easy as it looks.”

“Some people aren’t meant for driving,” he said. “Some people maybe have other talents.”

She had to laugh. “Like ordering an Uber?”

“There’s no shame in that.”

On her fifth time around the lot, she’d gotten the hang of things. Somewhat. Sure, she’d mistakenly driven up and over a concrete planter and maybe killed a few daisies while she was at it. And okay, so she’d also left a good amount of rubber on the asphalt when she’d accidentally executed a burnout, but she hadn’t crashed into anything.

Yet.

She was working on controlling her speed, going too fast into a tight turn, when a whoop of a siren and a flash of blue and red lights came from behind them.

“Uh-oh,” she said, looking wild—and wide-eyed.

The security guard came to the driver’s side window and bent down to look at first Colbie and then Spence. “What’s with the Indy 500 act?”

“I’m learning how to drive,” Colbie told him.

“Are you sure?” the cop asked.

“Yes!” Colbie sighed. “I’m just not all that good at it yet.”

“You broke about ten driving laws just now.”

“She’s not on the street,” Spence said. “We’re on private property.”

“True enough,” the security guard said. “But someone called it in from the building. Said there were two stupid teenagers in the lot acting crazy and probably smoking pot.” He lifted a brow and eyed Spence. “You in charge here?”

“Yes.”

“Actually,” Colbie said, “I’m in charge of myself.”

Spence produced a badge and the officer took it, studied it, and then returned it. “I’m sorry, sir,” the guy said. “I didn’t recognize you. Have a good one.” And then he left.

Colbie looked at Spence in disbelief. “What was that?”

“What was what?” he asked.

“He acted like you own this place.”

“That’s because I do.”

She stared at him. “You’re like one of those really great cinnamon twists we had the other day in Union Square. Lots of surprising layers I didn’t see coming.”

“Right back at you,” Spence said. “And I bet, like the rolls, you’re also sweet and good to eat.”

She squirmed in her seat and blushed. “You don’t know that.”

He smiled. “I have a good imagination.”

At Spence’s words, Colbie’s face felt like it was having a hot flash. Then Spence—smiling because he seemed to know exactly what he did to her—leaned in excruciatingly slowly, until his lips just brushed hers.

Colbie’s hot flash spread to every single inch of her body. The anticipation of his touch was enough to galvanize her into reaching up and tearing off his glasses.

His smile widened and he finally kissed her, making her moan in pleasure. And he kept kissing her too, until they’d steamed up the windows and had gotten their hands on each other in ways that made it hard to breathe, when Spence pressed his forehead to hers.

“Not here,” he said, voice so low as to be barely audible.

She heard herself give a little mewl of protest and then another in pure pleasure when his hands, one inside her shirt and the other up her skirt, caressed bare, heated skin.

“I’m not taking you in a parking lot,” he said and nipped her lower lip. “Not for our first time.”

So many things to quiver over. One, that he clearly assumed there’d be more than one time. Two, that she was bad off enough that she started to argue the point. “But—”

With a husky laugh, he put his finger over her mouth. “There’s security on the property, including cameras. The last thing either of us needs is a sex tape on YouTube.” He lifted her out of the driver seat, put his glasses back on, and took over.

She barely remembered getting back because he had his hand on her thigh and that was all she could think about, that and also the way the rough pads of his fingers felt on her skin as he stroked it while driving.

After he parked at the Pacific Pier Building and came around for her, they collided and kissed right there on the sidewalk, Spence pressing her up against the truck until his phone buzzed.

He straightened his glasses and ripped the phone from his pocket. “What?” His gaze slid to hers, his mouth very slightly curved as he listened and then disconnected.

“What?” she asked.

“I have tight security on this building too. Joe’s on the monitors and got worried that I might actually swallow your tonsils.”

She smiled. “I don’t have any tonsils.”

With a laugh, he took her hand and they moved through the courtyard and into the elevator. She stood next to him and tilted her face to his, looking at his mouth.

He groaned. “Stop.”

“Cameras in here too?”

“Yeah. Remind me to rethink that,” he said, cupping her face, running the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes heavy lidded.

Somehow they got to his floor, where he tugged her off the elevator, his stride so fast that she nearly had to run to keep up with him.

They tumbled inside his place, where he pressed her up against the foyer table and kissed her. She got his jacket off his shoulders but it caught on his forearms because he was simultaneously divesting her of her coat and scarf. Giving up on his jacket, she started pushing up his T-shirt, laughing breathlessly when they both went to kick off their shoes and tripped over each other, crashing into the wall.

“No cameras in here, right?” she asked against his mouth.