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“Or maybe this kind is better.” He angled closer and dropped his hands to her knees, running his thumbs along the inside of her thighs. She’d taken to higher ground to avoid him, but with him so close there was nowhere to go.
    She slapped his hand and drew a line in the air between them with her index finger. “Don’t cross this line.”
    A low chuckle rumbled up from his chest as he leaned closer, way past the line. He brushed a curl away from her cheek. The simple touch made her tremble.
    “No crossing the line…”
    “Kinda fun, don’t you think?”
    My goodness, she never should’ve insisted on rules. He’d seek to break them just on principle.
    “I think we need to skip to the lightning round.” Holding onto sanity by a thread, she tapped violently through several screens to a series of shorter questions. “First answer that comes to your mind—Nirvana or The Beatles?”
    “Beatles.”
    “Beatles or Stones?”
    He ran his hands ran alongside her hips, definitely over the line. “Can’t always get what you want.” She gazed up at his lips as he answered, but all she heard was, “Want, want, want.”
    The next question was damned near a whisper. “The Dark Side or The Light Side of the Force?”
    A small smile touched his lips. “Oh, I love the Dark Side.”
    She tried to speak, but nothing filtered down from her dopamine-addled brain. And then he was kissing her. Tenderly, at first, his kiss seemed to test its limits, equal parts bitter and sweet, like a Manhattan. His hands moved up her back and tangled in the curls at the nape of her neck. He deepened his kiss slowly, adding intensity with her every soft sigh of encouragement. Her heart pounded against the tablet she held against her chest as his lips traveled her skin, gliding across her collarbone, burrowing in her neck, moving to lick at her earlobe, until finally coming back to capture her mouth, biting and nibbling at her bottom lip, exploring the depths of her. Logical or not, she loved the rhythm of his mouth against hers, light and tender, slow and passionate, playful and teasing. How much she’d missed the feel of him—the feel of his strong, rangy body, the taste of his lips, the citrus and spice scent of his skin—all of him threatening her ability to stick to her own damned rules.
    The Laundromat’s red neon sign blinked in the window.
    Wash. Fold. Oh, yes, Charlie, put your lips on me.
    Wash. Fold. Kiss me.
    Wash. Fold. Do not stop kissing me.
    Her pulse rushed ahead, but despite her body’s longing for this man who was singularly bad for her psyche, her brain fought back for some control. No matter how good she felt right now, he was still the same Charlie…sexy, impulsive, rule-breaking Charlie, kissing her senseless in the middle of a Laundromat. Yes, the way the fresh, soapy scent of Tide mixed with the deep spice of him made her want to stay in the Fluff ’N Fold kissing him until all of New York stood still. But she’d created her list of must-haves for a reason, to ensure her relationships would be risk-free, to protect her heart, so if she was smart, she was going to stop kissing him right now.
    Like this very second.
    As if he could read her mind, he pulled his lips away, lingering for a moment before ending the mind-blowing kiss. “Definitely a good kisser.”
    She released her hold on his shirt and blinked up at him. “A good kisser?”
    “My criteria—a good kisser,” he said, reaching past her for the Downy. “My easy-going blonde needs to be a good kisser.” He tossed a capful of fabric softener into the machine next to them. “And she needs to like dogs…and kids…oh, and pizza.”
    Blindsided. That’s how she felt. By seeing him again, by her reaction to him. “A good kisser who likes dogs and kids and pizza,” she repeated numbly.
    “Exactly. Everyday stuff.”
    She dropped her gaze to the linoleum. “Charlie, if I’m going to find you a blonde who likes dogs and pizza, we can’t—”
    But