The light from above catches in the corner of her mouth. It’s lifted slightly. A hint of a smile.

Fuck me. I’m so done for.

I’m suddenly grateful she can’t see me clearly. My mouth stretches into what has to be the biggest grin of my life.

I want dates with her. Dinners. Conversation. Hours upon hours of what we shared tonight.

And she said yes.

I slide my fingers out of her, anxious for a taste. A little desperate for it. At the sound of my gluttonous moan, Brooke peeks her eyes open, then gasps and leans forward, getting an inch away from my mouth.

“Well?” she asks, an unruly gleam in her eye as her hand circles my wrist.

She wants to know how she tastes. I could describe her for hours.

I slip my fingers out of my mouth, tracing the wetness along her jaw. “I could live with my mouth between your legs, Brooke. I could die there too.”

Her eyes fill with curiosity, and something else. Fear, maybe? Have I said too much?

I pull back and grip the wheel with both hands. My head hits the back of the seat.

Fuck, I had to say that, didn’t I? I couldn’t just say how fucking incredible she is? How I didn’t think it was possible for something to be sweet and fiery at the same time? Shit, even admitting I’m a full-blown addict after one bloody lick would’ve been a better response.

Why don’t you just propose right now, you tosser? Really go full-blown pathetic.

“Mason,” Brooke murmurs.

I shift my attention off the endless night sky and onto her.

She reaches for her belt. I can’t remember her ever taking it off.

“Can we drive some more? Maybe around here? The stars are insane right now.” She dials up the volume on the stereo, tilting her head to see out the windscreen. Ed Sheeran fills the car.

On second thought . . .

Maybe I haven’t spoken out of line at all?

Relief warms my blood. I melt against the seat as I shift the car into reverse.

We drive for hours, chasing the moonlight all over Chicago. Our conversation couldn’t be more random. We talk about everything. Her job, my home-life back in Australia, our favorite movies. Brooke rambles about her family, her sister Juls and her niece and nephew. How she’s living with Joey and his husband until she saves up enough for a place of her own. Sometimes we drive in silence, listening to the radio or nothing at all when Brooke grows agitated with the music selections. It’s comfortable, and easy. God, it’s easy talking to her. There’s no awkward pauses, no need to feel like you have to keep the conversation going. She makes a few more cracks about animals native to Australia, and whether or not I kept any of them as pets.

“Yeah,” I tell her, containing my amusement. “We kept a few crocs in our backyard. Mum didn’t care much for the safety of her children.”

She giggles into the night. The wind blows her hair around her and she tries frantically to tame it.

Fuck, she is precious.

I pull up in front of the Tavern after I catch a few yawns out of her. The footpath is quiet. It’s nearing 1:00 A.M. .

I feel wide awake. Drunk and high off Brooke. Reveling in this addiction I don’t want to fight.

She stares down at her lap after removing her seatbelt.

I fight the urge to drive off with her and bypass the goodbyes.

“I feel like you tricked me into agreeing to dinner,” she mumbles, looking over at me with a weak smile. “That seemed very calculated on your part.”

I lean across the console and kiss her cheek. “Not sure I know what you’re referring to. But calculated or not, you make the best sounds when you come.” I pull back, smiling at the heavy look that’s in her eyes, the same one she had in the field when I slid my finger over the smooth rise of her clit.

She wets her lips, then pulls the door handle and exits the car in a hurry.

“Yeah . . . okay, well, I guess I’ll see you this weekend sometime.”

“I’m just across the street, Brooke. You’ll see me before this weekend.”

She blinks rapidly, then nods once, her hand pushing her hair off her shoulder. “Mm. Right. You need to commit to your stalker status. It would be weird at this point if you didn’t follow me to get coffee, or do random drop-ins at my place of business.”

I chuckle, resting my elbow on the console. “What are you doing tomorrow morning?”

“Working.”

“Before that.”

She stares at me with the most curious expression. It’s so sweet I want to reach out and tug her back into the car, pull her against me, feel the grin she’s fighting against my mouth.

“Sleeping,” she answers, her bold eyes searching my face.

God, what I wouldn’t give to see her like that. First thing in the morning, sleep-rumpled and soft against my sheets. Her body tucked against mine while I watch the morning light pass over her skin.

With a jerk of my chin, I clear that image out of my head before it renders me incapable of getting my next words out. “Meet me for breakfast? There’s this spot I saw the other day when I was driving around. Just down the way a bit from the coffee shop.”

“Rosie’s,” she offers with a soft voice. Her teeth run along her bottom lip. “Yellow umbrellas out front?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“They have amazing breakfast foods. Like life-changing amazing.” She lowers her eyes to a spot between us, gathering her hair over one shoulder and twirling her fingers in it. She seems a bit unsure all of a sudden, like she can’t decide whether to bolt or stand here and continue talking to me.

“So, is that a yes?” I ask her, ducking my head a little.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s just breakfast, Brooke. You’re going to eat it anyway, yeah?”

Her eyes flick up to mine, but she doesn’t respond.

I smile, hoping to get one in return. “Do I need to pull you back in here and ask that question with my hand up your dress?”

She purses her lips, fighting it, fighting me. Her arms cross tightly under her chest as she stands a little taller. “You’d be wasting your time.”

“Hardly.”

“You would. I’m not a multiple orgasm type of girl. It’s nearly impossible to make me come more than once.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll remember to remind you of that when you’re begging me for a break.” We share a brief laugh, hers a little disbelieving. I look at her straight on and bite back the urge to beg for this. “Come on, Brooke. Meet me for breakfast tomorrow. Let me have you first thing in the morning.”

She stares at me long and hard, then finally drops her shoulders with a sigh. “All right.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she answers, looking away to hide her smile. “Only because I love Rosie’s and I haven’t eaten there in forever. Nice going on your part. If you would’ve suggested any other place, I would’ve shot you down.”

I wait until she looks back at me to give her a smile. “Seven o’clock?”

She doesn’t answer, doesn’t give me any sign of agreement. With a swift hand she shuts the door and walks to her car, making sure to give me a nice view of her arse as she bends to unlock the driver’s side door.

I drop a hand to my cock, staring at her, waiting for an acknowledgement that she’s heard my time suggestion.

I never get it.

She pulls away from the curb and blends into the traffic on the street.

BROOKE

The line at Rosie’s café is already wrapping around the building when I arrive this morning.

Typical, and why I didn’t argue with Mason when he suggested meeting so early last night. I’m used to grabbing something to eat after I arrive at the bakery, which isn’t until eight-thirty. Waking up any earlier for any reason isn’t something I’ll easily agree to, but if you’re going to eat breakfast at Rosie’s, you need to beat the crowd.

I move past the line and step inside the café, shifting my attention around the crowded room.