Vicki Thompson - Truly, Madly, Deeply

“So you won’t see me tomorrow night?”

“I might, if I don’t have a date. But we have to have an understanding that I won’t go to bed with you. That would put way too much pressure on both of us.” And might leave me open to another painful rejection.

“All right.”

She was a little disappointed that he’d give up the campaign that easily, but she smiled as if pleased with his decision. “Good. Then we understand each other. I think eventually you’ll see that—” She paused as he eased out of the booth. “What are you doing?”

“Move over. I’m taking you up on your earlier offer.”

“Uh…” The spoon dropped from her fingers and clattered to the table.

He sat on the edge of her seat, his thigh brushing hers, his arm over the back of the vinyl seat. His mouth was inches from hers, his scent surrounded her, bringing a surge of memories. “Lost your nerve?” he murmured.

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