Loving Again: Book 2 in the Second Chance series (Crimson Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

up on a ranch so I’m better on horseback than in the water. I have a business degree from the University of Oregon and I’ll let you find out on your own about the morning/night thing. Maybe even soon.”
    “What?”
    “You said you didn’t know those things about me. Now you do. Except for the last one.”
    “Oh.” When what he meant about “the last one” finally sunk in, she smiled. “ Oh! ”
    “Your turn.”
    She laughed. “What is this, the Cliff Notes approach to dating?” When he nodded she continued. “Okay, well — February 14th and I’m twenty-seven.”
    “Oh, hell. I thought you just looked young. You really are young, aren’t you?”
    “You make it sound like I’m jail bait.”
    He started to say something but she stopped him. “Do you want to hear the rest or not?” He nodded. “My middle name is for my godmother and I hate it although I love her. But if I tell you, I expect that you will never, and I mean never, use it.” She waited until he acknowledged the ground rule. “Okay, it’s Minerva.”
    It was obvious he was trying hard not to laugh. “That’ll be an easy promise to keep. I can’t think of any circumstances under which I’d call you Minerva.”
    “Good. And for the rest — I love to dance. I’m a pretty good swimmer but I grew up with horses so I’d rather ride, too. I have an arts degree from Reed College. I’m more a morning person although I do all right at night if I have a good reason to be up.”
    He raised an eyebrow at the last response.
    “Oh, please. I meant that if I get involved in something I enjoy, I can be a night person.”
    “That’s what I meant, too.”
    “I’ll ignore that. And you forgot one.”
    “I did?”
    “Yeah, do you like to dance?”
    “Only the really slow ones.” He motioned to the waiter who brought over the check.
    “Well, we can work on that,” she said as she slid out of the booth.
    • • •
    While Sam walked Chihuly one last time, Amanda got out ice cream, chocolate syrup, whipped cream and maraschino cherries and made sundaes for them. When they were finished eating, Amanda took the bowls back to the kitchen. She returned to the living room to find Sam had put music on.
    “Is that Chopin?” she asked.
    “Yeah, the nocturnes.” He listened to a few bars. “The second.”
    “Not what I’d have thought you’d pick. I would have imagined you’d have settled for my Jimmy Buffett.”
    “Which stereotype we working from here: cowboy or cop?”
    “Busted. Sorry.”
    “My mother was a classical pianist. I grew up with Chopin, Rachmaninoff, Mozart, Glass, Gershwin. You name it, if it was piano music, we had a recording of it. Or she played it. And speaking of stereotypes — you and Jimmy Buffett? I’d have thought you were more the Norah Jones type.”
    “One of the guys plays Jimmy in the studio and I’ve gotten to like him.”
    “You have all sorts of interesting quirks, don’t you?”
    She glanced up at him and looked around for a napkin. “And you have all sorts of chocolate syrup on your mouth.” She reached to wipe his mouth. “Here, let me … ”
    “Let’s try the way I wanted to get the chocolate off your mouth in the gallery,” he said and gathered her into his arms.
    His mouth was soft and cool; he tasted of vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup and the all-male flavor she remembered as “Sam.” He kissed her tenderly, like a sweet and gentle first kiss. When her lips parted, he circled her mouth with the tip of his tongue so softly she almost thought she imagined it. He broke from the kiss. “Better?”
    “Oh, yes,” she said, having no idea whether there was still syrup on his mouth or not, and reached for him again.
    This time he took possession of her lips with an ownership that left her breathless. His hands moved up her back and to the sides of her breasts while his tongue did magic tricks in her mouth. She matched his intensity with her own, months of longing flavoring their kiss