“Of course. I’ll be here to let you in. Email me anything you need in the meantime.”
For someone that never spoke her mind, I’m not exactly sure what came over me. But I found myself reaching out for his hand and saying. “She’s an idiot.” His gaze snapped to mine, a question bright in his eyes. “Elena,” I clarified. “I know you’re in this way better place and your experience with her opened up all of your restaurant opportunities. But honestly, she’s an idiot. You’re difficult, but not impossible. And you’re definitely a workaholic, but you’re also thoughtful, and caring, and one of the most respectable people I have ever met. You didn’t send her to another man’s arms, Ezra. She settled for a cheaper version because she wasn’t strong enough to see the amazing man standing right in front of her.”
He was quiet for so long that I worried I’d offended him. Abruptly, he stood up and held out his hand to me. I took it.
Of course I took it.
“I’m going to walk you to your car.”
“O-okay.”
We left the table with our discarded meal and cluttered plates and empty wine glasses and he led me outside. I wasn’t sure he knew what kind of car I drove, but it turned out he wasn’t really interested in my safety or sending me home.
We stepped outside Bianca and he pulled me into the empty patio area that was still closed down from winter. The ivy didn’t have leaves yet. The brick beneath our feet was uneven. There was still a chill in the air. None of it mattered.
He stepped into me, bringing his body heat with him. The night sky framed his outline, stars twinkling overhead. A nervous tingle spread through my body, starting at my toes and working its way upward until I was nothing but nerves and anticipation and hope.
“I tried to save you from this, Molly.” Ezra’s voice was gentle, roughened. “I’m tired of failing.”
Before I could ask any questions, his lips were on mine. His touch jolted through me, surprising me with the feel of his mouth, the press of his body, the realization that Ezra Baptiste was kissing me. I probably should have been expecting this, but honestly there was not any way to prepare for this kiss.
This kiss that was everything I had never felt or experienced before, or had the chance to enjoy. If all of my blind dates that turned into bad dates, and really bad dates had been with boys pretending to be men, then this single experience was enough to erase them all from my memory forever. Because Ezra wasn’t a boy or pretending to be a grown up or anything but a sexy, irresistible, virile male.
His mouth moved over mine with skill. Caressing, nibbling, sucking until I kissed him back in the same way. His hunger was subtle at first, growing with intensity the longer we stood there. His hands found my waist, tugging me against his hard body. My hands belatedly fluttered to his chest where I clutched his t-shirt with two fists and held on for my life.
He kissed me in a way I had never been kissed before. In a way I knew, I just knew, I would never be kissed again, not by any other man. Nobody could replicate this moment. Nobody could compare. I was totally lost to the sensation of his tongue tangling with mine and the rumbly sound he made in the back of his throat when I caught his lower lip in my teeth.
He wasn’t shy or reserved. His mouth moved with mine until we fell into an intimate dance of lips and tongue, and a ton of heat. So much heat. He stoked the fire with his talented hands, moving them up and down my sides, drawing me closer, teasing, tempting… seducing.
When he trailed kisses along my jawline and down the column of my neck, I gasped for breath in an effort to calm my racing heart. He didn’t let me take much of a break before his mouth came right back to mine as greedy for me as I was for him.
Time passed, but I was lost to it—lost to this man. This man that was not cocky, but confident and successful. This man that was not inconsiderate and rude, but loyal to those that he cared about, wounded from past hurt, and so unbelievably thoughtful.
This man that was so completely different than I’d assumed.
His kisses eventually slowed and he reluctantly pulled back, but he didn’t go too far. He kept his head bent low, touching his forehead to mine. His hands stayed spread over my ribs, holding me close, reminding me of how intimate we had just been.
He let out a shaky breath. “Finally.”
I let out a surprised laugh. “Finally?”
Straightening, he gazed down at me. “I’m not sure I can remember a time when I didn’t want to kiss you.”
My already pounding heart jumped excitedly in my fluttering chest. My insides were a mess of adrenaline and endorphins, and way too much feeling. “You haven’t known me for that long,” I reminded him.
He took another step back, his hands grabbing mine. “True. But you of all people know I’m not known for my patience.”
I shook my head at him, feeling some of my spine return. “Did you get it out of your system?”
He always responded differently than I thought he would. For instance, I expected hurt or anger, or even mild irritation at the very least after a snarky comment like that. Instead, that one side of his mouth lifted in an affectionate half-smile and he said, “Not even a little bit.”
I gulped making a straight-up audible sound that reminded me of a cartoon. “I have work to do.”
“Get to it then,” he ordered. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
Not sure what to think of him or that kiss, I disentangled my hands from his and said, “Okay.” That was my genius response. After one of the best meals of my life, one of the most interesting conversations of my life and by far the best kiss of my life, I ended the night with a dorky, “Okay.”
Ugh.
This was Ezra’s fault somehow. I blamed the sexy restaurateur that had effectively turned my mind and my resolve to hate him to mush.
I left Ezra and practically ran to my car in an attempt to escape. Keeping my fingers pressed to my lips the entire drive home, I tried to hold on to the feeling of him kissing me for as long as possible. Just in case it never happened again, just in case Ezra came to his senses and wanted nothing to do with me ever again.
When I got home, I didn’t paint all night like I wanted to. I didn’t even dwell on Ezra’s kiss and relive every single second of it like I really wanted to.
No, I worked.
And I hated every second of it.
It was only when I went to bed three hours later that I let myself check my email and finally, finally gave into the butterflies and gooey feelings, and the uncertainty of what all of this meant.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: April 3, 2017 23:18:45 EST
Subject: Thanks for dinner.
And that kiss.
Looking forward to Saturday.
~Ezra
Chapter Eighteen