Free Up to Date (Better Date than Never Book 8) by Susan Hatler Page A

close my mouth, which felt like a ten-ton rock. “You painted this yourself?”
    “Yep.” He crossed one ankle over the other. “It was a good distraction from the pain of your earlier rejection.”
    I almost blurted out that I’d felt the pain of my earlier rejection, too. I still did.
    “Greg, I . . .” I hugged my belly, dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe he’d taken the time to do my job for me. “I’m speechless.”
    He shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up. “You haven’t even seen the other bathroom yet.”
    I gaped at him a moment, then darted through the master bedroom, and into the master bathroom. Olive green. The entire room. Unbelievable. I heard him come up behind me and I spun around. “Why did you paint the bathrooms yourself?”
    “To make you happy.” He tilted his head, giving me a side-glance that sent shivers through me. “Wish I could bottle your expression. I’d love to see that smile every day.”
    I shook my head, unable to believe what he’d done. For me. Especially when he’d thought I was going out with another guy tonight. It made no sense. “You’re crazy.”
    “Must be.” He stepped forward, that crease reappearing between his brows. “What happened to your date tonight?”
    I backed up against the counter, then averted my eyes. “I canceled.”
    He stopped in front of me, lifting my chin until my gaze met his. “Why?”
    Staring up at him, with only inches between us, I said, “It didn’t feel right, so I didn’t want to lead him on.”
    His fingertips brushed my jawline. “No man could accuse you of leading him on.”
    “I don’t know about that,” I whispered. After all, I’d kissed him this afternoon, and that was pretty much all I wanted to do right now.
    His gaze dropped to my lips, as if he were thinking the same thing I was. His mouth lingered only inches away and invisible force tugged at me, drawing me toward him. Unable to resist, I leaned forward, closing the distance between us.
    As soon as my mouth met his, my heart raced, and my worries disappeared. All that remained was Greg and me, in this moment. Olive-green walls closed around me, holding me like comforting arms, and the world felt warmer. Fuller. When his mouth opened, his tongue tasted mine, sending electric darts rippling through me. Oh, my. . . All I could think of was more .
    Our mouths melted together in deep, endless kisses, and endorphins coursed through me like they did during a long run at sunset. My fingers skimmed over his muscular shoulders, up his neck, then threaded into his soft hair, and I pulled him even closer—unable to get enough. My legs turned liquid, but Greg held me steady against him. He trailed soft kisses along my jawline, then paused close to my ear, and whispered, “Sunshine . . .”
    Tingles raced through me. The connection between us gripped every cell in my body. I breathed in his scent, fresh soap mixed with paint fumes. The stringent paint smell suddenly yanked me from the heavenly haze, bringing back the stress of bills, finding income, and all that rode on this decorating project. And, of course, my certainty that Greg and I could never be together.
    I angled back, lightheaded, and blinked up at him.
    Breathing hard, he brushed his fingers along my cheek, then leaned his forehead against mine. “Remind me to paint for you more often.”
    I wanted to smile, but pressure mounted inside me like a volcano ready to erupt. “This was really sweet of you, but I need keep working. I have a lot more to do. If this article doesn’t go well, if I don’t get this advertisement for my business . . . I don’t know what I’ll do.”
    “Then let’s get to it.” He pressed his mouth to my temple, then laced his fingers through mine and led me into the hallway. “What’s next on the agenda?”
    Biting my lip, I had to admit the offer was tempting. “Furniture shopping. But you’re not getting the way this works. You’re the client so I’m supposed