She was more beautiful than I’d remembered.
I wasn’t sure how that was possible, but it was the first thought that popped into my head when I spotted Amanda standing in the church after the ceremony, as I walked out behind the rest of my family. She was sitting next to an older woman who I figured had to be her mom. I wanted to stop and say something, to touch her in some way, but it wasn’t the time or the place—not with people pushing along behind me and everyone standing around us.
Once I reached the narthex, I had instant regret that I’d promised my mother I’d go right to the restaurant. If I’d stayed, I would’ve been part of the receiving line and could’ve seen Amanda. But there wasn’t any way I could back out now, so I stalked past all the hugging, squealing women, left the church and drove to Cucina Felice in record time.
The staff we’d left to finish the set up and prep had done an excellent job. There wasn’t much for me to do, other than to supervise a few final details. I’d only been there about fifteen minutes when the first guests showed up—and from that point on, I never stopped moving.
I knew the minute Amanda and her mother arrived, and I snuck glances at their table every once in a while. She was gorgeous, even though her blatant sexy vibe was a little toned down tonight. Her dress was a deep green that set off her dark hair, with a scoop-neck that hinted at the full breasts that I knew were beneath the silky material. It nipped in at the middle, and then it stopped about halfway down her thighs, displaying her legs, which were covered by black stockings.
Now, being a man’s man, I tried not to think about chick clothes. Hell, I didn’t think much about my own clothes, other than knowing that they fit me and were relatively clean. But I also grew up with two sisters, which meant that I knew about shit like stockings and bras—more than just how to get them off a woman. So instantly, when I saw Amanda’s legs, I started wondering if she was wearing pantyhose or stockings and a garter. Just the thought of either of those options sent all the blood in my body racing for my dick.
But as much as I wanted to go over and talk to her, I wasn’t off the unofficial family clock yet. The food was still coming out of the kitchen, and for a solid hour, it felt like everyone needed something, whether it was my elderly great-aunt wanting a coffee refill or my cousins asking for extra gravy for the macaroni. I never stopped moving.
I avoided getting close to the table where Amanda and her mother sat with Liam’s mom, her boyfriend, and Giff and Jeff. Once I had a moment to talk with Amanda, I didn’t want to have to rush off.
There was also the fact that I was still debating how to handle the complicated feelings I had about this woman. Over the last week or so, I’d begun to convince myself that she wasn’t that special, that the chemistry between us hadn’t been so incredibly hot. It was only that she was different than my normal hook-ups. Or maybe it was the whole thing about absence and the heart growing fonder. Whatever the case, I’d just blown it all out of proportion. The sex couldn’t have been as mind-blowing as I’d remembered, could it? It was only because I’d broken a dry spell. If we made the mistake of indulging ourselves again, we’d probably be disappointed.
As soon as I’d seen her, all of those rational arguments had vanished like smoke in the wind. I felt a crazy pull toward this woman, the kind of attraction that made a mockery of any attempt to explain it away.
If I’d seen in her eyes that she didn’t feel the same, that she wasn’t having the same internal struggle, I might’ve been able to ignore how I felt. But the raw and naked want I’d seen in her gaze couldn’t be denied. She wanted it as badly as I did. It was just a matter of timing now.
I’d loved every second of sparring with her, egged on by her mother and Giff. For a moment, she’d been a little off her game after blurting out that she loved my cookies. But then she’d come right back, giving me as good as she got, reminding me of what a firebrand she was, and I wanted her all the more.
Now, somehow, I’d persuaded her to dance with me. She was in my arms, even if it was only for one song, and we moved around the dance floor in a small circle as Harry Connick sang an old Frank Sinatra song.
“Do you like old music like this?” It was the first time either of us had spoken since I’d drawn her close to me.
She hesitated. “I don’t mind it. It’s perfect for dancing on a night like tonight, you know? But if I were out for a drive—”
“In the car that’s in storage at your parents’ house?” I couldn’t resist the tease.
“Yes,” she agreed. “In that car. Did I mention that it’s a 1966 Mustang convertible?”
“Holy God. Are you kidding me? No, you didn’t mention that. How on earth did you come by a car that sweet?” I could just picture her driving with her hair whipping in the wind.
“It was my grandfather’s, and then it was my mom’s. And then it was mine.” Her hands were linked together behind my neck as we swayed, and her fingers feathered through my hair there. “When I got my license and the car came to me, my dad had some of the safety features updated to appease my mother and put in a brand-new audio system to make me happy.”
“Nice.” I gave into the temptation and touched her ass, just below where my hand dangled. “So what kind of music plays from that brand-new audio system?”
“On a spring day, it might be ... The Gaslight Anthem.The 59 Sound.If it’s just the start of summer, say mid-June, it’s got to be Springsteen.”
“Without doubt,” I agreed. “Classic Jersey tunes.”
“Thunder Roadwould be my go-to. And in July, when I drive down the shore, and the sun’s setting, the only thing I want to hear isJersey Girl.”
“Awwww ...” I threw my head, grinning. “That’s perfect. There’s just something about that song, the way Bruce kills it ... yeah, I can see it.”
Her answering smile lit up her entire face. “What about you? What do you like to listen to when you’re cruising the back roads of the pine barrens with your arm around some sweet honey?”
“Some sweet honey?” I snickered. “I don’t take women out for long drives, sweetheart.”
“Not even if it might lead to wicked nookie later on?” She quirked an eyebrow at me suggestively.
“Not even that. I hook up with chicks who want the same thing I do, so we don’t need to waste time on things like romantic rides.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sometimes you come off like a real asshole, Vincent, do you know that?”
“Not only do I know it, I own it.” I rubbed small circles on her lower back. “Look, I’m not as bad as I might seem. I’m not a dick. I’d never disrespect women—the ones who raised me would smack my head if I did. I never take advantage of them, either. I’m upfront about what I want—you know that, because I didn’t lie to you the night of Ava’s engagement party. We knew what we were doing, didn’t we?”
