Treat with Caution (Treats to Tempt You Book 1) Page 4

  “You like nice.” He bent and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Thanks. You too.”

  He looked down at himself—he’d chosen black jeans and a short-sleeved navy shirt she’d once complimented him on. “Thanks.”

  “Wow,” Maisey said. “You’re both being civilized. I’m tempted to phone Mr. Guinness.”

  Kole gave her a wry look and held out his arm toward Tasha. “Miss Wilde?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Graham.” She took his arm, and to Maisey’s laughter, they walked down to the car.

  Chapter Five

  Tasha slid into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt.

  Her heart pounded, and she felt strangely breathless as he got in the driver’s side and turned on the engine. He looked across at her and smiled before moving the gearstick into drive and heading onto the main road.

  “You look nice,” he said again before she could say anything. “Those wide-leg trousers suit you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And heels!” He looked at her and widened his eyes before turning his gaze back to the road. “I’ve never seen you in heels.”

  She looked down at her feet, turning them to see the three-inch heels. “I can’t remember the last time I wore them.”

  “Are you trying to impress me?” He had a twinkle in his eye as he glanced at her.

  She gave him a sarcastic look. “I didn’t want us to look like Mike and Sully from Monsters Inc. You are quite a bit taller than me.”

  He laughed. “True.”

  “You look nice too,” she admitted again.

  His lips curved. “Thanks.”

  She let her gaze linger on him. He’d showered and smelled of spicy body wash and fresh clean male, and his hair was a little damp around the ears and the back of his neck, suggesting he hadn’t bothered to dry it with a hairdryer. The stubble he often sported had vanished, and his cheek and jaw looked lean and smooth. He wore tight jeans that emphasized his rather attractive butt. Okay, she thought as her cynical self laughed, she had noticed, but that was allowed as they were officially on a date. And he also wore her favorite shirt of his. Had he chosen that on purpose because he knew she liked it? The thought made her soften a little.

  He glanced back at her, obviously aware she was studying him, and grinned. “Are you weirded out?”

  “A bit,” she admitted. But probably not in the way he thought. Not because it felt odd to be with him, one of her best friends, out on a real date where anything could happen. But because she was extremely conscious of him as a man. Being in a car with a guy was strangely intimate. Her thigh rested close to his, and when she leaned her elbow on the rest, their upper arms brushed. She’d never made out with anyone in a car, but she could totally see why it happened so often. Nobody could hear them. They were isolated in their own little world.

  And nobody can come to your rescue if you scream, her subconscious pointed out. But she blew a raspberry at it. Kole was hardly going to pull over into a layby and jump her without her permission.

  Briefly, she wondered whether she’d give her permission if he did pull over and ask to jump her. If she said yes, would he somehow maneuver her in the front, so to speak? Or would they get into the back, maybe with her on top? Dammit, she should have worn a skirt. It would have made it easier to sit astride him, and then he’d be able to pull aside her panties and slide right inside…

  “Penny for them,” Kole said.

  She blinked and focused. For maybe the first time in her life, she actually felt embarrassed at where her thoughts had been heading. Her face grew warm. Oh my God, I’m blushing like a Jane Austen virgin. She was so unused to the feeling that it made her even more self-conscious, and the heat intensified.

  Kole’s gaze moved to her, returned to the road, then came back in a comical double-take. He stared at her for so long she thought he might drive into the ditch.

  To her utter surprise, though, he didn’t comment on the way her cheeks were doing an impression of an erupting Mount Vesuvius. Instead, he moved his gaze back to the road and concentrated as they pulled up at a T-junction.

  “I read a review of the movie,” he said, turning left. “It sounds pretty amazing. The best Bond yet, they’re saying.”

  “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it.” She fought not to fan her face, puzzling over his reaction. She’d been so sure he’d mock her. Tasha Wilde, blushing? Ye gods! He, Joss, Fox, and the rest of their mates had teased the girls relentlessly all through their teens, so she was used to every minor flaw being pointed out—the sight of a VPL, a new pimple, the first time she used lipstick. They never seemed to understand it was polite not to point these things out and make a girl self-conscious.

  So why hadn’t he said anything? Hell, he couldn’t have missed the blush, her cheeks had burned like beacons lit to warn of invading armies. That meant he was respectfully ignoring her embarrassment.

  What had happened? Had she somehow slipped into an alternate universe?

  He continued talking about other Bond movies and who played the best Bond, and gradually her cheeks cooled as she gave her opinion that yes, Daniel Craig probably topped the list, although Sean Connery received additional points for being so cool. But inside, she wasn’t sure whether to be grateful to Kole or resentful. By not teasing her, he’d somehow gained a strange sort of power over her. He’d seen her blush but chosen not to mention it. Was that all part of his plan to win the bet? Was this part of his charm—to act gentlemanly rather than tease her like he would have done if they weren’t on a date?

  She should move on, forget it had happened. But she couldn’t. It bothered her he’d acted different than usual.

  “I blushed,” she blurted out, interrupting his discussion of who made the best Batman.

  He glanced at her, and his mouth curved up. “I noticed.”

  She frowned. “So why didn’t you say anything?”

  “It didn’t seem appropriate to draw attention to it.”

  “But usually you would have,” she argued. “If we weren’t on a date, you would have teased me about it.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Yes, you would.”

  “Okay, I would, but we are on a date, and therefore it wasn’t the polite thing to do.”

  “See!” She pounded the dashboard. “I knew you acted differently when you were dating, and this is proof.”

  She’d thought he’d look annoyed or insulted, but instead he just laughed. “Yeah, I guess.” When she gritted her teeth though, he sighed, indicated, and pulled the car over into a layby.

  He left the engine running but turned in the seat to look at her, unclipping his belt. “Okay, we need to get this sorted.”

  “Are you going to jump me?”

  He looked exasperated. “What? What are you talking about? We’re on a first date!”

  “You’ve never had a one-night stand?”

  “I’ve never pretended to take a girl to the cinema and then pulled over to give her one on the way, if that’s what you mean.” His eyes were hard, wounded.

  It wasn’t what she meant, but she could see she’d insulted him. That was interesting. She’d thought he was so without scruples that he was uninsultable. Okay, that might not actually be a word, but she’d been so certain he was it, whatever it was.

  And now she’d hurt his feelings and made him angry. He was looking away, out through the windscreen, shaking his head and giving a little humorless laugh. Guilt hollowed her out inside, and she bit her lip.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “That was insulting and unfair.”

  He huffed a sigh, then looked back at her. His hazel eyes had softened a little. “Normally you wouldn’t have apologized,” he observed. “You wouldn’t have cared if you’d offended me.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again slowly. He was right. Their banter had always been such that she’d tease him and say rude things to rile him, but they never did, because he’d always have
a comeback. Something had changed between them. He cared what she thought of him. And she cared she’d upset him.

  “When we decided to date,” he said, echoing her thoughts, “it did something to our relationship. It’s like we’ve been two volatile compounds in test tubes that have finally been tipped into a beaker and allowed to mix. And soon, if things go as I plan them to, those compounds are going to get heated.”

  Tasha’s mouth went dry. His eyes had turned intense, and she was very aware of how close they were sitting. The scent of his aftershave, the heat from his body, the fact he seemed bigger than her, his arms so brown and muscular where he leaned on the back of her seat, almost around her, but not quite.

  “There’s going to be a chemical reaction,” he said, tipping his head a little, looking right into her eyes. “And when that happens, it changes things on a molecular level. And they can’t be unchanged. At the moment, we could probably scrape ourselves back into our separate test tubes without too much harm done, but after heat’s applied, we won’t be able to do that. And you can’t sit here thinking we can. Yes, we’ll act differently while dating and after dating, because you can’t interact like that and remain the same. It’s not a question of ‘turning on the charm’ or whatever you think happens. We react to each other, and with each other. But things will be different. And you have to be prepared for that.”

  She swallowed and moistened her lips. His gaze dropped to them, and they parted involuntarily as she inhaled. The car seemed charged with electricity—it ran through her, across to him and back, raising all the hairs on her body, tightening her nipples, making her heart race.

  She hadn’t thought of it like that. She’d assumed they would be two good mates dating, teasing each other, awkward and laughing in bed, the knowledge permanently in her head that he was her friend, he was Kole, and she hadn’t thought she’d be able to get past that.

  Now she realized how naïve, how foolish she’d been. Of course having sex was going to change things.

  “Can you deal with that?” he murmured. “Because, if not, perhaps we should just turn around and go home.”

  She should end it now. If they carried on, he was right—things would never be the same again.

  But as her gaze focused on his mouth, she felt a deep longing she hadn’t expected, a dark desire to have this man, to taste a little of that danger that hovered in the air around him like smoke.

  “I don’t want to stop,” she said, rewarded by a lifting of his frown, a spark in his eyes. “But I don’t want to lose you either. I’m worried that afterward we won’t be friends. And I don’t think I could bear that.”

  He smiled. “We’ll always be friends, Tasha Wilde. Don’t you worry about that. How could I not have you in my life?” He looked sincerely puzzled at the thought.

  Tasha wasn’t so sure. How could they stay friends if they went through with this? But still, she couldn’t back away. He was like a magnet, and she was the iron filings slowly being drawn toward him.

  “Okay,” she said quietly.

  They sat for a moment, looking at each other in the fading light. Outside, a kiwi bird cried from somewhere in the bush. A car went past, headlights scanning the tarmac, and then the road fell quiet again.

  “You’re sure?” he said.

  She nodded.

  Their gazes met. And slowly, they both smiled.

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then slid his fingers along to her neck, cupping her cheek in his warm palm. His thumb brushed her cheekbone, sending tingles up her spine.

  Tasha’s heart pounded. He was going to kiss her. His eyelids had fallen to half mast, and his gaze was fixed on her mouth. She wanted him to kiss her. Oh God, she wanted him to kiss her.

  He leaned forward. She moistened her lips again, and held her breath.

  And then at the last minute, he turned his head and his lips touched her cheek.

  He pulled back, dropping his hand, and his eyes were filled with laughter.

  Tasha pushed him away, exasperated, breathless, yearning, and cross all at the same time. “Come on, or we’ll be late,” she snapped.

  He clipped in his seatbelt and put the car into drive, then moved back onto the road, still laughing. “Save it for later,” he promised, and reached across to take her hand in his.

  Tasha let him. But she still scowled, all the same.

  Chapter Six

  They kept the talk lighthearted for the rest of the journey, but it took a while for Tasha’s heart to stop racing. She couldn’t believe how, at that moment when he’d cupped her cheek and leaned close, she’d longed so much for him to kiss her. She hadn’t expected such yearning, not for Kole, the guy who usually prompted an urge to strangle more than smooch, and when he’d kissed her cheek and pulled away, the disappointment and physical ache he left behind had shocked her.

  She kept it to herself, though. He probably had an idea how she was feeling anyway. He’d seen her blush, so she was pretty sure he’d also spotted her heaving chest, rapidly blinking eyes, and the way she’d shifted in her seat to try and dispel the ache between her thighs. But once again, he’d said nothing, just changed the subject, and left her feeling unnerved and confused by his unexpected kindness.

  They arrived at Kerikeri with about ten minutes to spare, and Kole bought their tickets, pushing Tasha’s hand away when she pulled out her card to pay her share. Not wanting to fight with him in public, she waited until they’d walked away carrying their drinks and popcorn to berate him.

  “You shouldn’t have paid for me,” she whispered furiously as they turned the corner from the kiosk and walked up the steps toward the screens.

  He looked genuinely confused. “Why?”

  “Because A, we’re not really dating, and B, I don’t believe in it.”

  He handed the tickets to the girl on the door, tucked the receipts back in the pocket of his jeans, and led the way into the cinema. “Firstly,” he said, walking all the way up the steps to the back, “we are really dating.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  “We’ve already had this conversation, and yes we are, otherwise why would I be heading for the back seats to make out?”

  She stared at him as he reached the top of the steps and walked past those already seated to two spare seats. Mumbling under her breath, trying to ignore the way her stomach fluttered at the thought of cuddling up to him in the dark, she followed him along and sat beside him. “I’m not making out with you in the back row of the cinema,” she muttered. “We’re not fourteen.”

  “More’s the pity.” He put a handful of popcorn in his mouth and crunched. “And secondly, what’s wrong with a guy paying for a date?”

  “It’s unethical,” she said, prompting a snort from him. “I believe women and men should be equals.”

  “So do I.”

  “Then—”

  He gave the kind of sigh she’d been used to all her life, full of impatience and exasperation. “A woman doing the same job as a guy should be paid the same wage. They should have every opportunity available to them that guys have. Gender, sexuality, color, race—they should all be irrelevant. But…” He held up a finger as she went to interrupt. “After saying that, I think it would be a very sad place if everyone acted the same and looked the same. You’re a girl. I’m a guy. I like that there’s a difference. And I don’t see anything wrong with men acting like gentlemen and women acting in a ladylike fashion.”

  Now it was Tasha’s turn to snort. “You think I should start carrying a parasol and wear petticoats and have fainting fits?”

  He tipped his head. “Well…” She glared at him, and he grinned. “Obviously not. But I don’t see the problem with opening the door for a woman, giving her my seat, or paying for a date, because I was brought up to be polite. How is that sexist?”

  She sighed, because she didn’t really have an answer. “I suppose some women would say it means you see them as the fairer or weaker sex, meaning you’re assuming we can’t sta
nd up for long enough, or we need a man to pay for us. Some women are offended by that.”

  “Are you?”

  She looked up at the screen. The adverts had started and the lights had dimmed slightly, but people were still making their way along the rows. “I don’t like it when men make assumptions about my abilities. But equally, I understand it’s a difficult world out there for guys sometimes. Our roles aren’t as clearly defined anymore, and it would be wrong to accuse a guy of sexism when he thought he was being polite.”

  “So therefore you admit it was okay for me to buy the tickets?”

  She sent him a wry look. “It just makes me laugh to hear you call yourself a gentleman.”

  “I’m a perfect gentleman. Usually.”

  “Usually being the operative word. I have no doubt you are a gentleman when you’re on a date. But I’ve not seen much sight of it around me.”

  Everyone had taken their seats, the lights were dimming further, and the final advert came to an end. She thought the conversation had ended and curled her legs under her, ready to watch the movie. But as it grew dark, Kole leaned towards her and murmured in her ear.

  “Did you ever consider that sometimes people can’t show their true feelings for someone? So they hide them behind a veneer of camaraderie and pretend nothing deeper exists.”

  She looked up at him, seeing his eyes gleaming in the light from the screen. He wasn’t smiling, and a shiver ran through her. What was he saying? That he liked her, had always liked her? But he’d ignored it because they were friends?

  He lifted his arm and hovered it above her. She let her lips curve and leaned against him, and he lowered his arm around her shoulders and tightened it momentarily, his hand warm on her arm. She fixed her gaze on the screen, too confused, in too much of an emotional whirl to say anything else. And besides, the movie had started, so there wasn’t any point in trying to speak over the car chase and all the explosions.