Recipe for Love (Jupiter Tides #1)

by Anne Malcom

He approached me before I registered what was happening. And when I realized what was really going on, I backed away on instinct, not because I was scared… exactly. “Nora,” he murmured, caging me against the back of my car, his warm, muscled, impressive body pressing up against mine. He still smelled like him but with a hint of the soap I kept in the guest shower. The same soap I used. Lavender. Imported from France, where they didn’t pump their personal care products full of chemicals like we did here. I liked his smell. Loved his smell. But the mixture of his scent and my own? It was much too dangerous. It made me think of… other things mixing together. That and the fact that his hand was now on my hip, his lips were inches from mine, and he was murmuring my name in what could only be described as a sultry tone. “What?” I wheezed, my eyelids fluttering rapidly at the vision of him that close up. Unfortunately, there were no gross imperfections, nothing at all to put me off. “You’re not drunk anymore.” He slowly ran the back of his knuckles along my jaw. I shivered at the intimate gesture. “I was never drunk,” I argued, or at least tried to. My voice was thin and weak, barely above a whisper. “Tipsy at the most.” “Fine.” His eyes searched mine. “You’re not tipsy anymore. So…” “So?” I asked, barely audible. “So, me kissing you wouldn’t be takin’ advantage of you.”