Page 33 of Blame it on the Kiss
She lifted her head. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”
“Let it—?” She meant the list. “I’m serious about the Roseville, nothing else. My mom is a big collector and her birthday is next month. I’d like to hire you to help me find a piece to give to her.”
Honor peeked over her shoulder at him. “Hire me?”
“You’re an antique dealer, aren’t you?”
Her eyes alighted with pleasure before she turned away and dropped her head again. His chest filled with a kind of contented energy he’d never felt before.
“Okay,” she whispered.
It took everything he had not to kiss her nape, move up to her earlobe, then around to her smooth cheek, her lush lips. Eye on the prize, dude. And it isn’t Honor.
“Does Saturday work for you?” he asked.
“Sure.”
He continued to massage her shoulders and neck until her body melted under his touch and she let out a hum that had the strain against his zipper jumping up a few degrees. If he didn’t walk out the door right now, he’d stop at nothing short of sitting her on her desk, lifting her skirt, and burying his face between her legs.
Not the tactic to win over her brother and put his agency back at the top of its game.
Chapter Six
Honor’s body had never betrayed her like this before. She couldn’t stop thinking about lying in the sand with Bryce. His mouth on hers. And when she did that, thoughts of having those sexy lips of his kiss every inch of her skin consumed her.
That he also used said mouth to say nice things and help her at work caused her to suffer a constant state of arousal since he’d left her office two days ago. She glanced down. Yep, her nipples were hard and poking through her sweater. She needed a bra with armor stat.
And her sense of rightness checked. She hadn’t uttered a single thought to Payton in days. Sweet plus sexy could not equal Bryce.
“How do I stop on these things?” Shirley yelled, skating past the park bench Honor sat on in the middle of town.
Honor fanned her sweater away from her chest. “Skate onto the grass,” she called. Shirley gave a thumbs-up as she coasted to a halt.
Roll Into Work had been a huge success so far. Skaters had overtaken the bike lanes and sidewalks this morning, young and old alike taking part whether they had a workplace to go to or not. Honor had stopped at the supermarket to pick up bran muffins and fresh fruit for the mayor’s office, and several employees had left their skates on, skating around the aisles like they were in a grocery store derby and laughing the whole time.
Shirley plopped down beside her. “I think I pulled a muscle.”
“Ouch. Really?” Honor winced. “Would it help if I told you, you looked great skating?”
“Enough about me.” Shirley tapped her arm. “Tell me about the hot stuff that came in to see you the other day.”
“Hot stu—you mean Bryce?”
“So that’s his name.”
Crap. She’d just told TMZ’s most faithful watcher way too much. The clock on the bell tower chimed, drawing Honor’s eye to the time and the clear sky above. An airplane flew silently in the distance. Maybe by ring twelve Shirley would lose interest.
Or pull a tongue muscle so she couldn’t talk.
She did not just think that. Bad Honor. Was it even possible to injure your tongue like that?
Maybe with Bryce—oh my god, she had to stop thinking about him like that. “Shouldn’t you be manning the front desk?” Honor asked sweetly.
“I’m on my lunch break. Are you two dating?”
Honor bit back a groan. Shirley and her band of gossip girls disguised as sweet little old ladies had known Honor her whole life. They meant well, but they wanted every young person married off. “No.”
“Why not?”
