Double Dare by Melissa Whittle Page B

lobe when he said, “Have a seat. I’ll serve you.”
    Her jaw dropped down. He had to know how that sounded. She glanced over her shoulder. He’d already moved to the stove. Slick . She eyed him for another moment, and then sat down at the table. He made no grand gestures when he pulled out the roast beef that had been cooling in the oven, nor when he plated the pasta. He should have because the beef was well done and still fell apart on her fork.
    “Is there anything you don’t do well after you put your mind to it?”
    He notched his head to the left. “Singing. You?”
    “The same and a few other things, but singing is the worst. Dancing, too. I’ve got two left feet.”
    “The key to dancing is rhythm,” he said easily. “That’s easily remedied.”
    “You’ve never seen me dance, but according to my friends I’m not so laugh-worthy when I’m drunk.”
    He frowned for a moment. “It means you’re thinking too much when you dance then. Again, easily remedied.”
    “I’m a hot shot at Scramble but that game where someone gives you clues and you have to figure out what it is…sucktitude; it’s bad when your own friends don’t want you on their team.” She paused and added, “I bet you also have a good sense of direction.”
    “I do.”
    She considered him while chewing the meat that melted in her mouth. The food felt like a seduction on its own. “Analytical and practical.”
    “Correct on both points. You color outside the lines, but then remind yourself you’re not supposed to. I could teach you how to Step.”
    “Step what?” She took another bite and eyed what was left of the beef on the platter.
    “It’s a dance.” Tobias watched her and a beat passed before he sighed. “Joshua would kill me, but I can give you half of the roast to take home with you.”
    “Are you trying to seduce me with food?”
    “Only if it’s working.”
    Emma added pasta to her fork. She closed her eyes and chewed, letting the Worcestershire sauce and pasta dressing wash over her taste buds. Seduced, completely and utterly seduced. So she asked after swallowing, “What’s your obsession with black?”
    “It matches with everything. Despite its reputation, black represents all color. You don’t get black out of nothing. You get it once you add everything. I like the symmetry of it. It doesn’t stain. I could go on.”
    “The red?”
    His mouth quirked. “I have a thing for red. It’s the color of life.”
    “You don’t strike me as an…” Emma pursed her lips as she searched for the right word. “Expressive man.”
    “Doesn’t mean I lack emotions or that they don’t run deep.”
    “How is someone supposed to know how you feel? You rarely smile or laugh. Your eyes are extremely expressive, but that could be wishful thinking.”
    “If you are ever unsure of how I feel, ask.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Actions, Emmaline, are what tell you how someone feels. More wine?”
    He didn’t miss a beat and it relaxed her more than the wine he offered. “I’m fine for now. So what exactly is Step?”
    “Don’t you want to be reassured of something?”
    There was no question of how he was feeling. He perfected emotions in his gaze. There was attraction, endless and dark. But there was warmth and something so welcoming she smiled.
    “I’m fine for now.” She wiped her mouth, full, but wouldn’t have minded another piece of that beef. “I don’t recall ever getting the story of how you got into coffee.”
    “It’s a boring story.” He shrugged. “I was a cop who got calls at odd hours of the day. I didn’t have a Starbucks budget. Cheaper to make myself a pot. Way more practical to buy the beans and grind them myself. Then I got hit with a random thought or rather an idea that I couldn’t let go.”
    “Random thought?” She played with the stem of her wine glass.
    “Have you ever tried to remember an actress’ name in a movie?” His hands were still, but his eyes were