“Oh, it’s not good for digestion. On the other hand, your momma is something special.” She grinned at the image of his flamboyant mother. “She’s one of a kind. You’re lucky to have her.”
“Don’t I know it.” He laughed and motioned toward the car. “Shall we go then?”
“Absolutely.”
He opened her car door and she got in. “You know, you don’t have to open my door for me. I’m a big girl.”
He looked at her and laughed. “Believe me, I’ve noticed. But you do know my mother, right? If she even caught wind of me not opening your door she’d hunt me down. She’s been known to come out to my job sites or my office to lecture me or interrogate me about my brothers. Secondly, I just want to take care of you a bit, part of the whole wooing thing, you know. I know you’re capable of doing it, I just want to spoil you a little.” He gave her a smile so sexy that she swore she could smell her insides boiling from the heat.
Taking a deep breath, her hands gripped the edge of the seat to keep herself from jumping on him.
Stifling a smug smile, he raised a brow, satisfied he caused such a response in her. “How does steak sound? I’m really in the mood for it today. The Oak Room’s got a pretty varied menu if you don’t want steak, though.”
“The Oak Room sounds just fine, Kyle.” Truth was, she’d always wanted to go there on a date and had never had the chance. It wasn’t fancy really, it was the meeting spot for folks her age in Petal.
At the side of his car, in the faint light of the restaurant, he leaned down to kiss her. She stood on her tip toes and he bent his knees—they fit well. “You taste like strawberries,” he murmured against her lips.
Warmth bloomed through her at the contact. “Flavored lip gloss.” Her eyes were still closed as she replied. Still savoring the moment. With a small smile, she wrapped her arms around his back and brought his mouth back down to hers again for another kiss. She didn’t know why she felt so wanton with him, she just did. There was something explosive about their chemistry.
Chuckling, he obliged her, his mouth covering hers, sucking her bottom lip in between his teeth and laving the sting with his tongue. A breathy moan of delight escaped her.
His hands slid to the small of her back and brought her body against his tighter. Damn it she tasted good. She felt right against him, in his arms. Her soft sounds of pleasure tightened his need for her. His c**k was rock hard. He had to tamp down his impulse to roll his hips, grinding into her as he reached down to grab that stellar ass to pull her up and over him. He broke off before he lost that thin shred of control, not wanting to paw her in a parking lot.
Putting his forehead to hers he got his breath back until he was able to speak again. “Let’s go inside, Maggie.” He took her hand in his own and led her into the restaurant.
She felt out of place immediately once they got inside. Practically everyone there knew Kyle—servers, managers and patrons alike. The women eyed him appreciatively and looked at her speculatively. She recognized many of the people but many were from the crowd she’d never been included in. Suddenly, it was like high school and she hated the way it felt.
Kyle felt her tense up and, once they were seated at a small table, he scooted his chair nearer to her own. “Is everything all right, darlin’?”
“Fine. I’m just hungry.” She smiled at him, relaxing at his nearness. He looked skeptical but she didn’t elaborate so he let it drop, sticking close.
The server took their order and brought over a glass of wine for Maggie and a beer for Kyle. He held her hand, running his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. He couldn’t get enough of touching her skin.
“So, you had a story to tell. I want to know about you. About your family.”
She shook her head and put a hand up. “Oh no, we don’t need to go there. Tell me about your family instead.”
“Huh uh. It’s your turn. We’ve already talked about Polly Chase. Let’s hear about Cecelia Wright. Come on, please?” He fluttered his lashes at her making her laugh.
Sighing, she took a drink of her wine and a bolstering breath. “Okay, the truncated version, then. Cecelia Bradshaw was Miss Georgia. Before that Junior Miss Georgia. She was also homecoming queen two years running, the Magnolia Festival Queen, and a whole host of other titles that she’d be happy to tell you all about any old time you wish. When Cece was nineteen years old, she met the son of the man who owned the largest orchard in the county and of course, Tom Wright was immediately and forever in love with her. They married at twenty and moved into the house I live in now.
“Cece, has one tall, regal, golden haired daughter who is married to the quarterback and has two adorable children and they live in a brand new home over in Cherry Hill Estates. That daughter keeps a spotless home, always has perfect hair and makeup, and bakes cookies and embroiders. Butter would not, and never has, melted in Jane Marie’s mouth. Janie, as you know, followed in Cece’s footsteps and was homecoming queen and Magnolia Festival Queen and a host of other pageants that my mother would also be happy to talk to you about.
“Now poor Cece has another daughter. This one is not tall, is not beautiful and hated the very idea of pageants. No, poor Cece’s youngest child liked—gasp—books! Not just books but history. Of course Cece’s suffering went even deeper when her husband would brave her wrath to occasionally nurture this child’s love of books and history.
“Don’t I know it.” He laughed and motioned toward the car. “Shall we go then?”
“Absolutely.”
He opened her car door and she got in. “You know, you don’t have to open my door for me. I’m a big girl.”
He looked at her and laughed. “Believe me, I’ve noticed. But you do know my mother, right? If she even caught wind of me not opening your door she’d hunt me down. She’s been known to come out to my job sites or my office to lecture me or interrogate me about my brothers. Secondly, I just want to take care of you a bit, part of the whole wooing thing, you know. I know you’re capable of doing it, I just want to spoil you a little.” He gave her a smile so sexy that she swore she could smell her insides boiling from the heat.
Taking a deep breath, her hands gripped the edge of the seat to keep herself from jumping on him.
Stifling a smug smile, he raised a brow, satisfied he caused such a response in her. “How does steak sound? I’m really in the mood for it today. The Oak Room’s got a pretty varied menu if you don’t want steak, though.”
“The Oak Room sounds just fine, Kyle.” Truth was, she’d always wanted to go there on a date and had never had the chance. It wasn’t fancy really, it was the meeting spot for folks her age in Petal.
At the side of his car, in the faint light of the restaurant, he leaned down to kiss her. She stood on her tip toes and he bent his knees—they fit well. “You taste like strawberries,” he murmured against her lips.
Warmth bloomed through her at the contact. “Flavored lip gloss.” Her eyes were still closed as she replied. Still savoring the moment. With a small smile, she wrapped her arms around his back and brought his mouth back down to hers again for another kiss. She didn’t know why she felt so wanton with him, she just did. There was something explosive about their chemistry.
Chuckling, he obliged her, his mouth covering hers, sucking her bottom lip in between his teeth and laving the sting with his tongue. A breathy moan of delight escaped her.
His hands slid to the small of her back and brought her body against his tighter. Damn it she tasted good. She felt right against him, in his arms. Her soft sounds of pleasure tightened his need for her. His c**k was rock hard. He had to tamp down his impulse to roll his hips, grinding into her as he reached down to grab that stellar ass to pull her up and over him. He broke off before he lost that thin shred of control, not wanting to paw her in a parking lot.
Putting his forehead to hers he got his breath back until he was able to speak again. “Let’s go inside, Maggie.” He took her hand in his own and led her into the restaurant.
She felt out of place immediately once they got inside. Practically everyone there knew Kyle—servers, managers and patrons alike. The women eyed him appreciatively and looked at her speculatively. She recognized many of the people but many were from the crowd she’d never been included in. Suddenly, it was like high school and she hated the way it felt.
Kyle felt her tense up and, once they were seated at a small table, he scooted his chair nearer to her own. “Is everything all right, darlin’?”
“Fine. I’m just hungry.” She smiled at him, relaxing at his nearness. He looked skeptical but she didn’t elaborate so he let it drop, sticking close.
The server took their order and brought over a glass of wine for Maggie and a beer for Kyle. He held her hand, running his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. He couldn’t get enough of touching her skin.
“So, you had a story to tell. I want to know about you. About your family.”
She shook her head and put a hand up. “Oh no, we don’t need to go there. Tell me about your family instead.”
“Huh uh. It’s your turn. We’ve already talked about Polly Chase. Let’s hear about Cecelia Wright. Come on, please?” He fluttered his lashes at her making her laugh.
Sighing, she took a drink of her wine and a bolstering breath. “Okay, the truncated version, then. Cecelia Bradshaw was Miss Georgia. Before that Junior Miss Georgia. She was also homecoming queen two years running, the Magnolia Festival Queen, and a whole host of other titles that she’d be happy to tell you all about any old time you wish. When Cece was nineteen years old, she met the son of the man who owned the largest orchard in the county and of course, Tom Wright was immediately and forever in love with her. They married at twenty and moved into the house I live in now.
“Cece, has one tall, regal, golden haired daughter who is married to the quarterback and has two adorable children and they live in a brand new home over in Cherry Hill Estates. That daughter keeps a spotless home, always has perfect hair and makeup, and bakes cookies and embroiders. Butter would not, and never has, melted in Jane Marie’s mouth. Janie, as you know, followed in Cece’s footsteps and was homecoming queen and Magnolia Festival Queen and a host of other pageants that my mother would also be happy to talk to you about.
“Now poor Cece has another daughter. This one is not tall, is not beautiful and hated the very idea of pageants. No, poor Cece’s youngest child liked—gasp—books! Not just books but history. Of course Cece’s suffering went even deeper when her husband would brave her wrath to occasionally nurture this child’s love of books and history.
