I Stand Before You (Judge Me Not #2) by S.R. Grey Page A

wants to do is laugh.
    It is kind of funny. But I guess he feels bad too, ’cause when I go to place the damaged eyewear back in my bag, he says, “Do you mind if I take a look? Maybe I can fix them for you.”
    “It doesn’t matter,” I try to tell him, not wanting to waste his time. But he holds out his hand and gives me this sweet, pleading look that no woman could possibly resist. Certainly not this woman, I don’t even try, I just hand the man the sunglasses.
    Chase smiles and takes the glasses. He starts to mess with the lens, but it slips and slides under his fingers too. It won’t stay in place for anyone apparently. He lets out a low growl of frustration, and I have to look away. God, even his growls are sexy. Chase is a sensory delight, sight, sound, touch. I bet he smells and tastes good too. I lean a little closer to see if I can discern the former, but fearing that he’ll notice I step back and just enjoy the view.
    Chase is lean, but it’s obvious he’s strong, he emanates physical power. I’ve heard he never loses a fight, which accounts for the perfect face. What a sexy badass. He doesn’t fully fit the part though. Not today. He has the sexy part down completely, yes, but his clothes are too nice to be badass. The shirt, pants, and shoes scream upstanding citizen, nice churchgoing young man. I practically snort;, since we all know that isn’t true. But his intent is probably to look the part, seeing as he’s here at the church. However, even his dressy clothes can’t hide his edge of pure bad boy, and the nice fabrics sure can’t cover up his amazing body.
    His shirt is really nice, a crisp white button-down, with the sleeves rolled up. His exposed forearms display long, corded muscles, muscles that flex and move, especially when he snaps the lens of my sunglasses back into place.
    The black pants he’s wearing look great too, fitting him to a tee. I find no fault anywhere. Damn, his body is a wonderland, meaning I can’t help but wonder what he’d look like unclothed. I’ve heard he has tats and I’m suddenly dying to see them. Wonder if he’d let me touch them.
    I’ve obviously completely lost my mind.
    Chase is just about done—the lens is fixed—so I avert my gaze and try to pretend I’m searching for something in my purse. He assesses the sunglasses for a few more seconds. As do I. From the corner of my eye I see there’s a bend in one of the arms, maybe from the collision. Chase straightens it back and says something about the sunglasses being nice. Instead of just offering up a simple thank you, I go into a long-winded explanation.
    “Thanks. But they’re not really worth anything. They’re not real designer glasses. I bought them at one of those dollar stores.” Chase glances my way and gives me a little smile. “Not the one in town, the one a little north of here. Do you know where I mean? Up by the Agway on seven…” I trail off. God, ramble much .
    But Chase doesn’t seem all that bothered by my babbling. He hands me the sunglasses, and they look perfect, like brand new.
    “Wow, you fixed them,” I gush, turning them over in my hands. “Amazing, I think they’re actually better than when I bought them. Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    He smiles, and oh, what a smile. “I’m Chase, by the way.”
    We’re kind of hitting it off, flirting a little, even. So I don’t tell him I already know who he is. Why ruin things?
    I just say, “Nice to meet you. I’m Kay, Kay Stanton.”
    “Kay,” he says my name slowly, and I like the sensual way it sounds coming from his mouth. “Like, short for Kaylee or Kayla?”
    “Nope, just Kay.”
    “Hmm, I like it,” he says, pressing his lips together and nodding approvingly.
    Oh, and I like you.
    I think this, but I don’t dare say it. I drop my gaze and lick my lips.
    I better think of something to say if I want to keep this conversation going. And I do want to keep it going. I don’t want him leaving just yet,