Read Online Blind-Date Baby by Fiona Harper - Free Book Online

sexy? It just wasn’t fair that a man of his age should be twice as good-looking in the daylight.
    When she’d done absolutely everything she could think of to delay giving Noah his coffee—save drinking it herself—she took a deep breath and walked over to where he was sitting. He’d chosen a slightly dilapidated floral armchair and, although she suspected that leather and clean lines were more his style, he looked totally at home in the higgledy-piggledy coffee shop.
    ‘Here.’ She placed the cup on the table to avoid accidentally brushing fingers with him, then slumped into an adjacent chair.
    ‘Well, that’s me sorted,’ he said, wrapping his long fingers around the little cup. ‘Now, Grace Marlowe, what is it that you want?’
    Grace had no idea.
    But she did know what she didn’t want. She didn’t want to be sitting here noticing his fingers, because that led to noticing his wrists and the muscular forearms that were just visible where he’d pushed his sleeves up. How did a man have beautiful wrists? Just looking at them made her fizz inside. And fizzing led to something else she didn’t want—doubting her decision to say no to a second date.
    Slowly, she became aware that the ridge of her thumbnail was between her teeth and she pulled it away. Bad habit. She hooked the offending digit in the loop of her jeans and took a sudden interest in the glass display case on the other side of the room.
    What did she want?
    Better focus on that, because getting up and wandering off to choose something to eat would give her an excuse to avoid this awkward silence. She sneaked a look at Noah. He didn’t seem to be finding it awkward at all. The torte was half-finished and he was sipping his coffee. If only she could match his serenity.
    A croissant would be nice.
    Something plain to settle her stomach. She pushed her weight down onto her feet and began to stand but, before she got fully vertical, a plate holding a pain au chocolat appeared before her.
    ‘Thought you might need this,’ Caz said and plonked a large black coffee down too. And then she sauntered off, looking as innocent as the day she was born. Grace knew better.
    What Grace had wanted was to get away from Noah for a few moments, to allow her heart rate to return to normal, to get far enough away to block her view of his wrists. She definitely hadn’t needed Caz’s pain au chocolat—or her so-called help. Just as she hadn’t needed to feel all heart-fluttery about Noah last night. It was a conspiracy.
    ‘Grace? What do you want?’ he said softly.
    Grace poked her finger into her pastry, scooped up a chunk of brittle, bitter dark chocolate and sucked it off her finger. ‘This’ll do.’
    Noah didn’t display his fine teeth again, but she saw a glint of humour in his eyes. ‘Not for breakfast. What do you want out of life?’
    She pulled a face. ‘That’s a bit deep and philosophical for a Sunday morning, isn’t it?’
    He shook his head and loaded his fork with more torte. ‘I’d say it was a perfect Sunday morning type of question.’ She watched him in silence as he ate his cake, having no choice but to notice his fingers, his lips. He had very nice lips. And didn’t she know how nice those lips could feel!
    She deleted that thought. She couldn’t feel that way again. Shouldn’t be able to. That part of her soul had been a one-shot deal and she’d used it up on Rob.
    ‘Okay then. Tell me about your daughter.’
    That was easy. She knew what Daisy wanted. ‘She’s backpacking for a year before starting university up north. In fact, she’s probably eating a very similar breakfast to mine in Paris, right this very second.’
    Grace stared hard at her pain au chocolat, wishing it had magical powers and could transport her to a city with the best, most ostentatious patisseries in the world. What she wouldn’t give to gaze in wonder upon shelves stacked high with gorgeous rainbow-coloured macaroons, tartes and choux buns.
    ‘I wish