“I think we’re past basic human decency. You dressed me.You paid for a private doctor. You practically carried me into the shower last night.”
“Well, that last one was really for my benefit,” I quipped, and she hit me with a pillow. “And what makes you think you aren’t paying me back for that doctor’s visit?”
“Derek, seriously,” she pleaded. “What’s going on? This entire trip has been an emotional roller coaster”—her words echoed my thoughts from my walk this morning—“and it just keeps getting more confusing. Now, this.” She shrugged.
“Well”—I patted her hand—“I guess I owe you.”
“You owe me?” She tilted her head in confusion. “For what?”
“For taking care of me after I got sick at Six Flags.”
She leaned back and rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Derek? Do you remember whose undercooked Easy-Bake Oven cake gave you the food poisoning, which later caused you to have that accident on the Scream Machine in the first place?”
Of course I remembered, and despite the many indignities I suffered that day, it was still one of my favorite memories.
“I don’t think bringing you two Gatorades counts as quality health care.”
“It is for an eleven-year-old,” I responded. “And you felt so bad, you did basically whatever I asked you to do for the rest of the summer.”
“I thought I’d almost killed you. And I’d begged everyone to taste my cake. You were the only one who said yes, and I poisoned you! I felt terrible.”
“I said yes, because everyone else said no, and you’d slaved away all morning over that little sixty-watt light bulb.”
She burst out laughing again. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, I survived, and your baking has improved over the years.”
“Well, it had to, didn’t it?” Her laughter died down, and she grew pensive.
“Jasmine?”
“I’m sorry about my outburst at The Capital Grille. Yes, I was drunk, but that’s no excuse for behaving that way in public, especially in front of your… date, girlfriend… whoever she was.” Jasmine didn’t meet my eye, and I could tell she was fishing for information on my relationship status. A warmth spread in my chest. “I hope I didn’t ruin your dinner.”
“Well, you did ruin my dinner,” I began. Our eyes met. “It was definitely a date.” Her face momentarily dropped. “But it wasn’t serious.” Her expression relaxed. “Honestly, I was more upset that you stole one of my shrimp.” Her face-brightening smile returned.
“So why are you single, Derek Carter?” Her hazel eyes bore into mine. Her face relaxed into a soft smile as she waited for my response. Unable to think of something clever, I decided on the truth.
“I’ve never found someone that I considered marriage material,”until you, I finished the thought in my head while I stroked my thumb over the emerald ring and gold band on Jasmine’s left hand. We gazed at each other for a moment, and I wondered if she saw the truth in my eyes.
“So, why are you single, Jasmine Morgan?” I parroted her question while I continued holding her hand.
“Well, I’m looking for a man with a fifty-pound dog who loves to cuddle.” She raised an eyebrow.
“The man or the dog?” Her resulting laughter was intoxicating, and I never wanted it to end. “I know someone who might fit that criteria, and I want to be specific.”
She laughed even harder, and before I could be overruled by reason, intelligence or the basic instinct of self-preservation, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against hers.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jasmine
As surprised as I was by Derek’s kiss, I was even more surprised that I was kissing him back. The silly adolescent fantasies of a preteen girl with a crush on a family friend were a pale comparison to the embrace that was currently setting my body on fire. His lips moved across my jawline, placing featherlight kisses and nibbles on my neck, collarbone, and shoulder. I let out an involuntary moan.
“Fuck, that was sexy,” Derek whispered before sliding his hands beneath the hem of my pajama top to caress the skin of my back and stomach.
I relaxed into my pillow, and Derek rolled his body on top of mine, careful not to crush me with his full weight. He gently pressed a knee into the crease of my thighs, urging my legs apart. I responded by wrapping my legs around his waist while his hands and lips continued to explore every inch of skin he could reach. The thin fabric of our pajamas could barely dampen the contactof his erection caressing my clit, and he gently rocked his hips between the junction of my thighs. I couldn’t stop myself from moaning again.
“Can I open this?” Derek propped himself up with one hand while gently tugging at the buttons on my pajama top with the other.
