Crosby’s eyes seemed to twinkle as he stepped forward, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me to him. He ran his lips lightly up my neck until he reached the shell of my ear. “Would it really be so bad, spending an evening with me?”

It wouldn’t be. And that was the problem. I fought to keep my breathing under control as my nerve endings flared to life. It wasn’t like I’d been celibate since Grant and I had imploded. I’d gone on dates, had relationships. But there was just something about this man’s touch that always seemed to bring me to life. “It depends on what we’ll be doing.”

“I can think of one or two things to keep us busy.”

He gave the lobe of my ear a playful nip, and I responded with an elbow to the stomach. “Don’t bite me.”

The mischievous tilt to his lips had my stomach hollowing.

“You like it when I give you little nips.”

“Not in public.” I glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying us any mind.

Crosby released me and held up both hands. I felt the loss of him instantly. His heat, the life force that seemed to thrum through him, spilling out into the air around him. Into me. “I promise—” Crosby’s phone started to ring. He slipped a hand into his back pocket and pulled out his cell. Taking a moment to study the screen, he scowled and silenced it.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” He shoved it back into his jeans. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. I can taste your skin in private but not in public.”

The dismissal shouldn’t have burned, but it did. I hadn’t shared everything with Crosby, not even close, but I’d shared pieces. More than felt safe. His phone started to ring again. He muttered a curse, repeating the same steps as before. This time, however, he flipped the switch on the side to put it on silent mode. The carefree man of two minutes ago was gone.

“Who was it?”

Crosby glanced up, giving his head a small shake. “No one important.”

I simply met his gaze. “If the amount of tension that just ran through your shoulders is any clue, it was someone important.” Crosby broke our stare and looked out at the ocean, at Shelter Island getting smaller in the distance. “You don’t get to have it both ways, Crosby.”

He flicked a quick glance in my direction. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t poke and prod and want to know things about my life and then not answer a simple question like who’s calling your phone.”

A muscle in his cheek ticked. “Fair point.”