Read Unsung for Free Online Page B

Saturday, so he had two days. He could work with two days.
    He didn’t have any other choice.
    “What are you doing tonight?”
    Her hand stilled, the spoon no longer going around her cup in circles. “I don’t know.”
    “Have dinner with me.”
    “Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself there, Sparky? We haven’t even had breakfast yet and you already want to make plans for dinner?”
    “Sparky?”
    “You heard me,” she said as she brought her mug of coffee to her mouth and took a sip.
    “Yeah I did, and I find it interesting that you’re calling me Sparky when you were the one trying to run out of here this morning like your pants were on fire.”
    “Yeah, that is interesting, isn’t it?”
    “Why were you running?”
    Something flickered in her eyes…something that if he didn’t know any better he would guess was a flash of pain. But it was gone just as soon as it had appeared and she covered up her moment of weakness with a coy smile.
    “That’s crossing over into the too personal territory.” She shook her head.
    “Honey, I had my mouth between your thighs last night. I think we’re way past too personal.”
    “Is that a fact?” she asked, raising her left eyebrow.
    He hadn’t really met that many women who could do the one eyebrow lift thing, and every time she did it he found her infinitely sexier.
    Something he didn’t even know was possible.
    Apparently it was.
    “Yeah, it is.” He put both of his palms on the counter and leaned forward, getting dangerously close to her mouth. Dangerously because the closer he got to her the more he wanted to forget about what he was cooking and just have her for breakfast.
    She leaned forward, too, those lips of hers mere inches away. “I’m still not telling you,” she whispered.
    God, he could do this with her all day and not get bored.
    “Do you enjoy being this difficult?” he asked as he reached up and found a stray strand of hair that was too short to be pulled back into her bun. He curled it around his finger and tugged until her mouth was on his.
    “Definitely,” she said against his lips. He kissed her for the second time that morning—not nearly enough by his standards—tasting the coffee on her tongue.
    He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, letting the curl of her hair unravel from his finger. He moved his hand to her jaw, running his thumb across her cheek. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
    “Why don’t we see how breakfast goes first?”
    “You lacking confidence in my cooking abilities?”
    “Not as of yet, but if you keep standing over here your bacon might burn.”
    “Don’t you worry about my bacon. It’s perfectly fine,” he said as he went in for another kiss. He might as well make the most of the moment and her readily accessible mouth. Which really wasn’t a shabby moment to be in at all.
    *  *  *
    Okay, so breakfast turned out to be something that bordered on legendary. Liam could cook cook. If he was able to whip that dish up without all that much preparation, Harper could only imagine what he would be capable of when it came to dinner.
    Not that she’d agreed to have dinner with him as of yet. She was still deciding, had been all through their meal, and was still trying to figure it out as he drove her back to the Second Hand Guitar.
    But she was filled with conflicting emotions.
    Her brain kept screaming “run away.”
    Her heart was staying silent, except for the fact that it started to pound harder when it came to anything that involved Liam.
    And then there were her lady bits, as unreliable and unhelpful as ever. They were all for more time spent with Liam.
    It was hard for her to resort back to her original plan of escape when he kept kissing her. The things he was capable of with his mouth just added to his fine string of talents. It was no wonder she couldn’t think straight. What she needed was a little space.
    Yes, space.
    Good thing they were now sitting in the