Her Sexiest Surprise

Chloe cut through the butter-rich frosting, passed out the pieces to oohs and aahs and waited for her friends to taste.

“Ooh, cinnamon-nut?”…“Yummy, cherry cobbler!”…“Taste this. Is it raspberry cheesecake?”…“Mine’s peanut butter and…toffee? Yeah, toffee, yum.”

So it went as everyone nibbled and exclaimed and passed their plates to nibble and exclaim again. Chloe was thrilled. This was why she cooked—to give this delight, made even more special when it was for people she loved.

After her guests declared themselves stuffed, she opened her gift—a set of top-of-the-line knives they’d all pitched in for. “Thank you so much,” she said, tears welling. “This means so much. And, Natalie and Enzo, the job will be amazing.”

Just as she sat down, the door opened and a man entered. Riley? Could it be? She blinked away the happy tears to be sure. Yep. It was Riley striding to the hostess stand, where Glenda handed him a cell phone. He must have left it in his booth.

The next time Riley Connelly walks in the door…

Was fate testing her resolve? How could she act with her party still going on? Next time. That was what she’d meant.

Dammit, no. She’d made a promise and the smoke had barely cleared from her candles before she was negotiating it away. She stood so fast her chair scraped the floor.

Everyone stopped talking and looked at her.

“Thank you, everyone. This has been great, but I need to…I have to…get my wish,” she said, her face flaming, knowing everyone would watch her now. But if she didn’t act, she’d regret it. It was past time to get on with her life.

She steadied her gaze on Riley, who looked puzzled, but waited to see what she wanted, his smile broader with each step she took toward him. She stopped inches away.

“Hello there,” he said softly.

“It’s my birthday…”

“I gathered that.”

“And when I blew out my candles, I promised myself the next time you walked in here, I would…”

What? Ask you out? Not dramatic enough for her birthday high, for Riley’s magical reappearance, for the hopeful crowd behind her. She’d already leaped off the cliff. Now it was time to fly. “Just…this.” She rose on her tiptoes and planted her lips on his.

For a second, she feared he’d break it off, but after the briefest hesitation, he tilted his head, deepened the kiss and pulled her into his arms.

His mouth was warm and firm, and he tasted of rich, dark coffee, and she was so glad she’d taken the leap.

Her friends roared and whistled, which finally made her laugh and she broke away. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“No, thank you,” he said, his smile wicked. He still held her at the waist.

Unsure of her next move, she was relieved when Sadie bustled over with her purse. “Go on. Have fun. We’ll pack up your gift and whatever’s left of that incredible cake.”

“Are you sure?” she said.

“Yes!” the entire group said in unison. Their laughter trailed her and Riley out the door, as though they were newlyweds off on their honeymoon.

Once outside in the sudden quiet of the spring night, Chloe became painfully aware she’d just kissed a man to whom she’d never said more than “Booth or table?” and “Your server will be with you in a moment.”

“Thanks for going along with me,” she said, stepping off the sidewalk between two cars. “It was out of the blue and a crazy sort of dare and I’ve had champagne and—”

Riley cut her off with a kiss, pulling her into his arms and taking his time, exploring her mouth as comfortably as if they’d been lovers for years.

She relaxed into the moment, not wanting it to end. If this were a movie, the director would cut to a bed and their naked bodies in golden lamplight. There would be no tense seconds, no awkward fussing with zippers and clasps and discussions of prophylactics and blood tests.

She leaned back.

Honk…honk…honk…honk…honk. The car alarm she’d set off brought her back to reality. She was no screen star embracing the man of her dreams. She was Chloe Baxter, talented cook with a problem father, a flaky sister and a cranky cat. Her goofy birthday promise had her making out in a parking lot like a hormone-crazed teenager.

Riley laughed good-naturedly, not a bit thrown by the honking. “My house is close and I promise no alarms will go off.” When she hesitated, he added, “It’s reasonably clean, I swear. For a guy.”

“It’s not that. It’s just…”

“Your mama told you not to go home with strange men. I get that. But you know me, Chloe. I’m at Enzo’s all the time. I’m harmless, I swear.” He crossed his heart. “If I misbehave, my dog will pin me to the ground and gnaw my nuts off.” He looked so sturdy and sweet and trustworthy, she could only laugh.

“You in?” he asked, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

“Let me see…” She rose on tiptoe to kiss him again. His lips were strong, yet soft, his kiss slow and urgent, and she went boneless with desire. “I’m in,” she breathed, hoping the kiss would prolong her courage.

Riley seemed to sense her doubts. “You call the shots, you know. You’re the birthday girl. We can have a beer, watch TV, play cards or, hell, do you like Guitar Hero?”

She laughed, feeling surprisingly comfortable with the man.

“Or we could hit a bar if you’d rather.”

“No. Let’s go to your place.” Something about this man and this moment made it right. She felt different. New. Ready for anything. Well, not anything. And not entirely different. Just enough for tonight. She shivered in anticipation.

“You cold?” Riley asked, running his hands up and down her arms as if to warm her.

“Just excited, I think.”

“Good, then. Let’s go.” He gave her his address and she followed his vintage red Mustang the few blocks to his house, her heart pounding, her toes and fingers tingling, her stomach fluttering with a million butterflies. The champagne buzz was gone, so it had to be nervous excitement she felt.

Riley held her door for her, then led her up the walk, a gentlemanly arm around her shoulders.

At his front door, she stopped. “This isn’t like me, you know. I’m usually cautious and careful and, I don’t know…”

He waited for her to figure it out.

“Boring,” she said, realizing it was true. “Utterly dull.”

“You’re sure not boring me,” he said, kissing her again, soft and coaxing and warm and sure.

When he opened the door, they were greeted by a barrel-chested dog with wispy black-and-white fur—an oversize Chihuahua on stilt legs who galloped around them, barking.

“This is the guy who’s supposed to knock you to the ground if you get fresh with me?” she teased.

“Oh, you don’t want to get on his bad side,” he said, bending to the dog’s level. “He’s ferocious, aren’t you, boy?”

She bent down, too, glad of the distraction. The sudden intimacy of being in Riley’s home made her feel awkward.