Chapter Twelve
Charlotte
Her insides in a tangle, Charlotte followed Luke to the table. Not only could he actually cook, but he made tossing pasta look sexy.
God, she was in trouble.
He pulled out her chair, and she slipped into it. A plate full of sin sat at her place. Creamy chicken, spinach…bacon. He put bacon in the pasta. It was all she could do not to dive headfirst into it. “How’d you learn to cook like this?”
He sat across from her and picked up his fork. “It was learn to cook or starve when I moved out on my own at school. I took the first option.”
“Really? Because I took the ‘Taco Bell option’ when I moved into my first apartment.” She took a bite of the pasta, and her eyes crossed. It was every bit as good as it smelled. If he was using food to get into her bed, he was doing a damn good job. “You’re really good.”
His mouth quirked up on one side. “You have no idea.”
Charlotte flushed. Had he read her mind? “How was your workout?”
Yeah, because that wasn’t an obvious subject change. Luke can probably make innuendo out of that, too.
“My trainer decided to wage war on my legs.” Luke took a sip of wine. “I, uh, had a little trouble with your stairs just now. My quads are killing me.”
“You know, I minored in sports medicine in college, and I was a student trainer for the football team for two years. I could work out the knots for you.”
Oh Jesus, why did you just say that?
Luke’s eyebrows rose. “Could you now?”
Charlotte burst out laughing. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Not at all. I have to admit…I’m interested in the offer, but I’ll leave that up to you.” Luke pointed his fork in her direction. “What do you want to specialize in as a doctor?”
“Neurology,” Charlotte said. “I want to work with MS patients, primarily.”
“That’s really specific. Any reason?”
His tone was curious, light, but the question was a wrecking ball to Charlotte’s chest. She swallowed hard. “My mom. She has MS.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Luke said, his voice soft. “But it sounds like a good reason to practice medicine.”
“Yeah, I think so. Assuming I pass the damn MCAT.” She shrugged. “If not, I have a backup plan, but this is what I want most.”
“I know a little something about having a big goal but needing a backup plan.” He held up his wineglass. “Here’s to getting what we want.”
She clinked her glass against his. “Cheers.”
“So when will you go to medical school,” he asked, digging back into his pasta.
“Not for a year and a half. That’s how long it takes to get through the interview process.” She’d be twenty-four, almost twenty-five, by the time she got there, but the average age entering med school had increased to twenty-four, so she wasn’t the only one.
Luke nodded. “I might be back at ASU by then. Depends on how I do the next few months. I still need to finish my degree. I have a couple of semesters to go.”
Wait…how old was this guy? “A couple? You’re not a senior?”
“No. I’m a junior.” He gave her a searing glance that made her wonder where the fire extinguisher was, because she was going to burn any minute. “Look at you, going out with a younger man.”
“Not that much younger. I just turned twenty-three.” Charlotte took a big gulp of wine, which only made her feel more lightheaded. Her gaze strayed to his mouth. No…no. Just, hold it together. “Still, it’s funny that we both went to ASU but never hooked up.”
Luke’s expression went from seductive to predatory—in a good way—in a blink. Charlotte closed her eyes. “I meant…met.”
“Uh-huh.” His voice was this rich baritone, the kind of voice reserved for smoking clubs and radio hosts, but with a hint of heat underneath that sent Charlotte’s pulse up to highway speeds. “What did you think of the pasta?”
Nice bailout. “It was great.”
“Good.” He stood and took her plate. “I’ll wash these.”
“I can do it,” she said.
“I know, but I’m going to.”
Pulling out all the stops…and she liked it. Between that, and the two glasses of wine she’d downed, being cautious sounded boring. “Do you think you can climb back up the stairs? I can make us some coffee.”
“For you, I’ll definitely climb the stairs.” That smile again, the one that made her skin light up. “See you in a second.”
Charlotte nodded stiffly, then trotted up to her apartment. Maybe if she opened the blinds that looked over the resort, she could claim she’d invited him up to see the view? Yes, that’d work. By the way her hands shook while she measured out coffee into her tiny coffeemaker, she couldn’t make herself believe the lie.
Especially since Evangeline had slipped a box of condoms into her purse at the café this morning.
Charlotte took a deep breath and let it out slow. It had been a long time since she’d invited a guy in for “coffee.” She was nervous. How sad was that? Not nervous enough to call it off, though.
No way was she calling this off.
Luke’s steps sounded on the stairs, and Charlotte pulled out two mugs. She’d dimmed the lights—for the view, of course—but the vibe was definitely more intimate than she’d expected.
He stood in the doorway, watching her.
She stopped moving, coffeepot in hand. “Um, want some?”
“Sure.” He came into the apartment, his movements slow and sure. He stopped in front of the window. “That’s gorgeous.”
See? She wasn’t lying to herself. Not really. “I thought you might like to see my version of the resort.” She gave him a mug, holding her own tight so he wouldn’t notice how her hands trembled. “It’s really beautiful at night.”
And it was—the orange circles of streetlights glinted off the snow and the bright buildings lower on the mountain. Farther out, downtown Aspen glowed along the horizon, cars snaking down the roads into town. All of it shone bright against the black sky.
Luke reached for Charlotte’ mug and set them both on the coffee table, then took her hands and led her to the couch facing the window. Neither of them spoke.
He pulled her close, leaned in, and kissed her. That kiss, barely a touch of his lips, struck a spark deep in her middle, and she opened to him. Luke’s arms tightened around her, and he pulled her into his lap. She ran a hand down his shoulder, undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt, and slipped her fingers inside.
“Jesus,” he murmured against her mouth.
Charlotte sighed, her hands no longer shaking. Everywhere her fingers explored, she was met with taut muscle, tense and strong. He splayed one hand against the small of her back and slipped the other under her shirt. His skin against hers was everything she’d been waiting for.
She pressed closer, finding out how hard he already was. She couldn’t think straight. Did she even want to? His fingers skimmed down to her thigh, and she shivered. She wanted to shuck her jeans, let him touch her bare skin. To enjoy everything those confident, skilled fingers—and lips—could do.
“Charlotte,” he murmured against her neck, his lips leaving a trail of heat all the way down to her collarbone. “I have to ask…”
She took a shuddering breath. “Yes.”
His lips dipped below her collarbone. “Was that a ‘yes, keep going,’ or were you asking me to say more?”
She pulled his head back up to hers. “Luke? Shut up and kiss me.”