The Best Man's Bride by LISA CHILDS

appetite for food. Only for her. For more of her sweet kisses.
    “Let’s not think. Let’s just eat,” he proposed as he turned his attention to the picnic basket, forcing himself to ignore the temptation of her mouth. “Which we could do a lot easier if we had spoons. I can’t believe it,” he murmured as he dug through the basket.
    “No silverware?”
    He’d thought the deli would have packed utensils in the basket, but apparently he should have checked. “No silverware. No plastic. Not even a spork.”
    “Spork?” she asked, with a giggle.
    “You know, the cafeteria spoon with the teeth.”
    “Yeah, I know.” Colleen ate in the hospital cafeteria on the days she volunteered.
    “Don’t tell TJ and Buzz,” he implored her, “but we’ll have to eat with our fingers.”
    She looked into the containers he’d set out on the blanket. “Well, most of this is finger food. Sandwich wedges. Fruit salad.”
    “Potato salad. That’ll be a little messy.”
    She snapped the lid off and reached in for a chunk of potato, popped it into her mouth then licked the mayo off her fingers. “See, that wasn’t bad at all.”
    He groaned. “No, that was all wrong.”
    “It was?”
    He popped the lid off the fruit salad and pulled out a pineapple chunk. Then he held it to her mouth, the sweet juice running between her lips. “You’re supposed to use my fingers.”
    “Oh.”
    He slipped the pineapple into her mouth, the fruit both tart and sweet against her tongue. She chewed but could barely swallow, her heart was beating so fast. She choked and coughed.
    He wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Wrong pipe?”
    She shook her head. “I can feed myself.”
    “Chicken.”
    “Hey, you don’t even know me,” she protested. The taunt was one she would have expected from her younger brother.
    “No, chicken?” he asked, holding out a crispy strip of meat.
    “Uh, yes.” She reached for the morsel, but Nick pulled his hand back.
    “No, let me,” he insisted.
    “I can feed myself,” she repeated. His charm had already weakened her defenses. She should have left when her knees weren’t shaking, when she’d still had some strength to resist him.
    “Sure, you can feed yourself,” he agreed reluctantly, “but that’s not nearly as much fun as this.”
    He held the chicken in front of her mouth until she took a bite. She chewed and swallowed but leaned away when he lifted the food to her mouth again.
    “No, I don’t eat alone.” Hand shaking slightly, she reached for the fruit salad and lifted a piece of cantaloupe to his lips. He sucked in the fruit, along with her fingers, running his tongue over her fingertips.
    She shivered and not in reaction to the brisk breeze. “This isn’t a good idea.”
    “No,” he agreed, his voice hoarse and his eyes heated with desire, “but we’re not thinking. Remember.”
    “I forgot.”
    He eased another piece of fruit into her mouth, a strawberry. When she bit into it, juice exploded over her tongue and dripped from the corner of her lips.
    He leaned forward again, but instead of lifting the napkin to wipe juice, he pressed his lips to hers, kissing away the streaks of strawberry.
    She pushed her hand against his chest, trying to shove him back. “No, we can’t.”
    For so many reasons.
    “Shh. We’re not thinking. Just feel…”
    And he kissed her again.
    Colleen bunched his shirt in her hands and pulled him closer, her mouth devouring his as she had taken the fruit. Passion, long suppressed, raged to life inside, reminding her she wasn’t a timid teenage girl anymore. She was a woman. With needs and wants.
    And she’d wanted this man for so long.
    “Colleen,” he murmured her name as he pushed her back onto the blanket and followed her down, his body hard and hot against her as he covered her from chest to hip.
    She welcomed his weight, wrapping her arms around his back as she cradled his body with her hips. But still she wanted him closer, her body throbbing with