Jill Shalvis - New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess

“But earlier, when I touched you, you freaked.”

“Well actually, freaked is a pretty strong word.”

Her eyes glowed with some hidden emotion that made him nervous. “And you hate to dance, but for some reason you’re here, on the same day and at the same time I am.” Her foot tapped to the beat of her impatience. “Would this be a coincidence?”

“Not exactly.”

A man bumped into her from behind. She smiled when he apologized, then became serious again when she turned back to Kent. “Okay, look. I know you think this is silly, this whole new me thing.” She glanced down at her dress and shook her head. “And it’s really none of your business, but I turned thirty this year.”

Thirty had never looked so good. “You know I already know that. What different does that make?”

“ Lots …I want more for myself. I want-”

“Adventure,” he said with her and she gave him a sad smile.

Again the music changed, deepened. Slowed. Helpless against the strange pull of it, and her, he stepped close, but she held up a hand to stop him. “You need to stop doing this,” she said quietly. “Stop following me, trying to save me from myself. It’s going to give me the wrong idea.”

He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. “But I can’t get that ‘wrong idea’ out of my head.” He opened his eyes again to discover he was talking to air.

B ECCA STRODE DIRECTLY BACKto her table. Dennis was nowhere in sight. Still, she grabbed her purse and whirled, prepared to walk home if necessary.

But she was blocked, by none other than the man who had the singular ability to drive her crazy with the conflicting emotions of need and frustration.

Kent took in the sight of her purse slung over her shoulder and winced, even as he reached for her, putting his big, warm hands on her arms.

Now was not a particularly great time for her to feel that shock of reaction to his touch, a shock that shook her to the core.

He, too, went completely still.

A waitress stopped next to them with a tray of drinks, but when neither of them moved, she sighed with irritation and moved on.

Becca’s heart raced unnaturally. Kent was looking at her, really looking at her, with a slightly confused yet unmistakably desirous expression.

“More static?” she asked sarcastically.

“Or something,” he murmured, watching his hands on her with an intensity that made her want to melt boneless to the floor. “You look incredible.”

“It’s the lighting, and friends don’t touch, remember?”

He lifted his slumberous gaze to hers. “It’s not the lighting,” he said, ignoring her reminder.

“The dress then.”

“Well, it is an incredible dress.”

“Thanks.” She backed up so that his hands fell away from her. Definitely time to move on. “I’ll see you.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“Nowhere you need to worry about.”

He let out a breath. “You’re on your next adventure already, aren’t you? What is it?” he asked grimly, clearly bracing himself, which stirred her temper all the more.

“Obviously it bothers you greatly to even think about it, so why don’t you just let it go? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She walked away from him, said her goodbyes to Dennis and exited into the cool night. And if she felt a strange yearning for what might have been, she firmly squelched it.

Kent Wright was not for her.

But adventure number four was, and she could walk right to it. The night was lit by a blanket of stars that dazzled her mind and boosted her spirits. The air blew chilly around her bare legs, but she welcomed the delicious scent of spring.

The town was alive with both tourists and locals, as people hustled between the eclectic mix of historical and new hotels, shops and galleries.

One block later she stood outside the sushi bar and smiled. It might seem really silly to most, but she’d eaten bland food all her life. Simple, easy dishes she could take right out of her freezer and toss into her microwave.

Never, not once, had she had the nerve to challenge her palate, though she’d thought about it.

“Raw fish? This is your grand adventure?”

Sighing, even as a secret thrill raced through her, she turned to face Kent. “You’ve been following me. What a surprise.” Without waiting for an answer, she entered the small restaurant and was immediately seated.

When Kent sat next to her, she said nothing. He didn’t order, but she more than made up for it by ordering a large sampler platter.

“Becca-” he started, but she glared at him. He lifted his hands in surrender. “I suppose you don’t want to hear that they say ten percent of all sushi can make you sick.”

“Who’s they?”

“I don’t know. They. ”

“Humph.”

“They also say it’s bad for you. Rots your insides.”

She ignored him as the waitress brought her order.

“And they definitely say you ought to take it easy the first time,” he warned as she started eating.

She paused. “They say that about a lot of things?”

Tension and awareness crackled between them. Kent broke eye contact first. Telling, Becca thought, popping another bite into her mouth. She chewed slowly, absorbing the new taste.

Different, she decided as she swallowed nonchalantly because Kent was watching her so carefully. Very different. The rice part was good, but as for everything else, she wasn’t quite certain. She picked up yet another, then another. “I’m not as naive as you seem to think I am.” She licked her lips, then her fingers.

His gaze took in the motion of her tongue and she was grimly satisfied when his eyes darkened with heat. She ate two more pieces.

“Becca, do you have any idea how they get that stuff? They-”

“It’s delicious,” she said, lying only a little. Oh boy, was she ever full. But she’d ordered this huge platter and couldn’t imagine letting it all go to waste. “And I told you, you’d better be careful or I’ll get the wrong idea about all your touching concern.” Another bite before she looked at him. “Which comes from what again, exactly?”

“It’s a bit complicated.” He lifted a brow when she took yet another piece, but refrained from commenting.

“I do consider myself fairly intelligent.” She chewed carefully now, thinking that last piece might have been a mistake. Her stomach rolled. “Try me.”

“You’re not going to like it.”

Definitely a mistake, that last one had been. She pressed a hand to her grumbling belly. “Why is that?” she managed to ask, thankfully sounding perfectly normal.

His jaw clenched again. “Truth?”

“Preferably.”

“Okay then, I-”

Uh-oh. Her stomach roiled again, violently, and despite desperately wanting to hear what Kent said, she had no choice but to leap up and run for the door, her hand over her mouth.

Not here, oh God, not here. Please don’t let me be sick all over this nice carpeting, in front of the sexiest man she’d ever not wanted to be with.

“Becca, here.” With calm urgency, Kent pulled her out the door.

“Go away,” she said miserably, frantically pushing at him. She’d just had to have that last bite, she just couldn’t resist.

The pain in her stomach doubled her over, grayed her vision.

Kent whipped her around the corner of the building to the alley, by the dumpster.

She didn’t quite make it that far. But at least she didn’t throw up in front of him.

She threw up on him.

SHE WAS SITTING on the salon steps the next morning, wallowing in humiliation, when Summer came bouncing up.