Page 79 of Legs

“Really?” I couldn’t fight the scratchiness in my throat. I’d stopped listening to my father’s voicemail as of late, waiting on advice that would never come, but her admission meant the world. I’d have been proud, too, and honored and thrilled to have him at my side.

I wanted him here with me now.

“Yes, really,” my mother replied as she waved to a friend. “Jimmy is smart and creative, and his knowledge of wine is astounding.” One foot forward to mingle, she added, “You should enjoy yourself today. I hear the souvlaki is something special.”

She winked, leaving me speechless and slightly creeped out. (Reminder to self: never discuss sex with my mother.) Her inappropriate comment also had my heart thundering. My eyes flitted around, sure Jimmy and his “souvlaki” were here. My neck tingled, just below my ear, a place he’d often worshipped, with his tongue and teeth and lips. I touched the spot, shaking slightly.

Was he watching me now?

As if on cue, a deep voice curled from behind me. “That outfit should be illegal.”

So should his rumbling baritone. I stood, faced forward, my body alive with desire. “Just something I picked up.”

I wanted to see myself through his eyes. My calves lifted by my high heels. The curve of my spine revealed through the dipping fabric. I wanted to see him. See if his eyelids had lowered like they did when he was aroused. Check if his jaw had slackened.

“I’d like to strip it off you.” His hot breath hit my ear. Goose bumps cascaded down my neck.

Holy hell. Four weeks. It had been four weeks of confusion and longing, and now he was here, just behind me. I imagined us in a game of trust, those team building exercises where I’d have to fall and believe he’d catch me. And I did. If I gave up my balance and let go, I had no doubt he’d latch his arms around me and hold tight.

Unable to resist a glance, I peeked over my shoulder and whimpered. He was in dark jeans and boots, his gray button-down shirt tucked in, a purple vest stretched over his chest, thin black tie disappearing below. Wild hair. Dark scruff. Cuffs rolled to his elbows, all that glorious ink on display. The clincher was his eyes—hope and love and regret swirled in ribbons of blue.

I was done for.

“You’re not exactly dressed to blend in,” I said. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Definitely.

“All is fair in love and lust, then.”

“Isn’t it ‘love and war’?”

“This isn’t war, Sunshine. It’s many things, but it isn’t war.”

Except he’d laid siege to my heart, the delicate tissue surrounded and blockaded, nothing moving in or out but memories of us. Some days it was hard to function.

Instead of stepping beside me, he pressed closer to my back and laid his large hands on my hips. “You really do look stunning.” His breath grazed my ear again, and I nearly melted.

“So do you,” I replied, and, God, I wanted to touch him. I couldn’t take not facing him.

Belly aflutter, I went to swivel, but he held me firm. I’d been frozen since our fight, unable to make a move, but now I knew what I wanted. Namely, him. My arms around his waist, my head against his chest, his heartbeat pounding in my ears. He was having none of it.

He pulled me tighter to him. “How about a wager?”

“I could be tempted.” As long as the bet revolved around which of us got naked first.

“I’m sure you could, and I’ll even let you set the stakes.”

“Without knowing the game?”

He pressed his lips to my temple. “I won’t lead you astray, Ray. I love you.”

A shiver ran down my spine, his beseeching voice guiding the sensation. “You love me?”

“For so long. I should have said it sooner, but I fucking love you. So much it hurts. You own my heart.”

Aside from his ten thousand texts, we hadn’t talked through our problems, but his confession had my limbs tingling, heat radiating through my body. My life had turned around in the past months. I had a future filled with wine and learning, and I couldn’t wait to be an aunt. My mother was still overbearing and difficult, but she supported my choice of career and men.