He gathered her in his arms. “Thank you for being you. I feel like we bonded as friends in the dark.” Then he crushed her mouth with his, deepening the little kiss she’d given him.
Ariana encircled the back of his neck with her hands and pressed her breasts to his chest.
He wanted so much more than just a kiss. When their lips finally parted, he leaned his forehead against hers. Was it too soon to ask her if she’d like to go back to his place and pick up where they’d left off?
“I’d better go,” she said. “Thank you for today.” She stepped back and smiled up at him. “See you tomorrow at nine?”
He nodded.
“If you change your mind, I’ll understand,” she said. “Not every man wants to be in a room full of older women. Especially doing yoga. I have other classes during the week where I have a good mix of men and women, if you’d rather come to one of those.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow at nine.” He walked her to her car and opened her door for her after she unlocked it.
Before she got in, he kissed her again.
He could do that all night long and not get tired of it.
She looked up into his eyes and ran her tongue across her damp lips. “Goodnight, my stranger from the dark.”
He chuckled. “Good night my redheaded stairwell girl.”
He stepped back and watched as she backed out and drove away.
BODS couldn’t have been wrong with this match. Dillon felt like they fit.
So what if she didn’t fish or ride? So what if she liked cats better than dogs? When they kissed, none of that mattered.
Or had it been too long since he’d had a woman in his bed, and he was just a horny bastard?
No. If that had been the case, he would have asked her to go back to his condo. They would have made love, and he would never have arranged another date with her.
Instead, he’d let her go with a promise to be at a yoga class in the morning, the only man in a room with a dozen older women.
What had he been thinking?
Maybe it was his way of checking their compatibility by entering her world. He’d taken her into his, which had turned out fairly unfortunate. What could go wrong in a yoga class?
He’d spend an hour stretching muscles he never used. The ladies would get a good laugh at his form. Then he’d take Ariana out to a nice restaurant where they would sip wine and talk about…
Fishing?
Probably not.
The construction industry?
She wouldn’t be interested.
Yoga?
Well, it would be a start. Maybe they had the same taste in music. They had to have something in common. BODS couldn’t have been that messed up.
Chapter 9
Ariana dressed for bed and had just laid down when she sat straight up again.
“Damn.”
Dillon didn’t know where her studio was.
Then she remembered she had his phone number because he’d texted her, and she’d responded. She reached for her phone on the table beside her. Looking for the text, she assigned his name and saved him as a contact.
Dillon Jacobs. She even liked the sound of his name. She closed her eyes and said it out loud, picturing the shadowy outline of the stranger in the BODS office before she’d seen his face. His voice had been what had drawn her to him. That deep, resonant tone that curled her toes.
Suddenly, she wanted to hear it again. She had the perfect excuse. He needed the address of her studio. As she lay in her bed, with the lights off and nothing but the glow of her phone screen to illuminate the room, her hand hovered over his phone number.
“Oh, just do it,” she murmured, and pressed the call button.
Her phone rang immediately. She realized her call was going out as another was coming in. The contact name on the incoming call read “Dillon Jacobs.”
Her hand shook so hard she dropped her cellphone.
Ariana snatched up the phone and hit the button to receive the call. Smoothing her hair, she inhaled deeply and let the air out quickly. “Hello,” she squeaked.
“Ariana?” That deep, sexy tone flowed through the phone and into every pore of her skin.
“Dillon,” she said on a sigh and sank back on her pillow.
“I forgot to get the address of your studio.”
“Oh,” she said and sat up again. “Right. I was just about to call with that information.” She gave him the address.
“Nine o’clock,” he stated. “I’ll be there.”
Feeling like he was about to hang up, Ariana gripped the phone tighter. “Dillon?”
“Yes?”
“Uh…how’s your head?” she asked.
“It’s fine. I put an icepack on the lump, and it’s gone down considerably.”
“I’m glad.” She lay back on the pillow again. “I guess you’re going to sleep now?”
“I don’t usually go to sleep this early,” he said.
“Me either. I was thinking about reading a book or watching a show. I’m just not motivated to do either.”
“I’m the same,” he said. “I could go through the plans and emails related to the project I’m working, but when I gave the men the weekend off, I mentally checked out as well.”
“What do you like to watch on television?” she asked.
“I’m pretty boring. I like watching anything to do with history or science. I’ll watch some of the police procedural programs, too.”
“I have a secret love of the British cooking shows,” Ariana said.
“Do you like to cook?” he asked, his voice making her skin tingle with awareness.
“Sometimes. I’m not that good at making dinner, but I love to bake.”
“What’s your favorite, cakes or pies?”
“Pies. And fruit pies at that. None of those cream pies.”
“That’s too bad,” he said.
“Why?” she asked, afraid she’d pointed out yet another difference between them and another reason BODS had gotten their match so completely wrong.
“That’s bad because we’d have to fight over who got the last piece of apple pie.”
She relaxed, a smile curling her lips. “I’d split it with you.”
“Do
