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His gaze swept down my body. When he looked at my face again, his eyes were narrowed with lust. “So do you.”
I glanced down at myself and I saw what I always saw: there was too much of me, soft curves where there should have been sleek, trim tightness. If I’d been the architect designing my body, I would have screwed up the sketch and started again. I did an awkward little half-shrug and opened my mouth to brush the compliment away.
But when I looked up, I was looking right into his eyes. And what I saw there was don’t you dare. I faltered, trying to find a way to push through, but the certainty in his eyes was like warm rock and I finally broke and melted against it, flushing. Deep in my soul, the delicate, silvery threads that my ex had stamped into a dirty clump started to uncurl and shine. And that gave me just enough confidence to keep talking.
“It’s not really my kind of scene, either,” I told him. I nodded toward my dad, who was just about to start his speech. “Parties and speeches and stuff…that’s his thing. I’m an architect. I’m usually behind a drawing board or a computer. I’m not good with people.”
JD nodded slowly, staring right into my eyes like he wanted to soak up everything there was to know about me. As if he didn’t mind me being shy. Liked it, even. I looked away, embarrassed, breaking the spell.
“Your brother looks pretty comfortable,” said JD. Miles was standing at my dad’s side, grinning from behind his Ray-Bans, and I counted four women who were all looking up at him adoringly. “How come he’s got a British accent?”
“Our mom died a few days after I was born,” I told him. “My dad was trying to raise two kids and run the company. As soon as Miles was old enough, my dad sent him off to boarding school in England. I went to school over here.” It had always been a sore point for Miles: he’d hated boarding school and he resented that I’d gotten so much more time with my dad. He said it was because I was Dad’s favorite, which was crazy: Miles was the one my dad was grooming to take over the company. My dad hadn’t sent me to boarding school because I was a shy mess who would have imploded there. But I’d never managed to convince Miles of that.
The speech started and we fell silent along with the rest of the crowd. As JD turned to face front, he moved just a little closer and butterflies took flight in my chest. There was something giddily exciting about the hard bulk of him. I wanted to wind around that solidness like ivy.
All through the speech, I kept risking little glances at him. And then, halfway through, I looked across and found him looking at me. He took a slow breath as he realized he’d been caught. But he didn’t look away. Those beautiful, prairie-sky eyes narrowed, urgent and a little hazy. Like I made him crazy.
I’d never made a man crazy before. I turned quickly back to front, breathing fast. I didn’t dare look again. But I could feel JD watching me, could feel something building and building in the air between us.
As the applause died away, I slowly turned and found him still staring down at me. He was frowning, as if fighting with himself. Then the words just spilled out. “After Mexico,” he said, “I went home to Colorado, figured I’d never see you again.” He looked away and rasped his fingers across his stubble. “Didn’t like that.”
The confession was awkward, halting, as if… He hasn’t done this in a long time, either, I realized. That made no sense: a guy as gorgeous as him? “Me neither,” I blurted.
He moved a half step closer, like he was drawn, like he couldn’t quite control himself. The breath caught in my chest. Say something! “I’m glad you came. It means a lot to my dad, to be able to thank you.”
He cocked his head to the side and pinned me with a look. “That ain’t why I came.”
I felt as though a thousand watt spotlight had just lit me up. I flushed and shuffled. “I’m nothing special,” I mumbled.
JD scowled. “What asshole told you that?”
I blinked, speechless.
He stared down at me. I could see him fighting with himself again: he wasn’t used to talking this way, wasn’t comfortable with it. But he was stubbornly determined to set me straight. “You might just be the most special thing I ever saw,” he said in a rush.
I gulped. I felt like my feet were lifting off the ground. I groped for words and couldn’t find any.
The wind from the Hudson chose that moment to shift and blow my hair across my face. Thick locks were plastered right across my eyes and mouth and, for a second, I couldn’t see at all. I spluttered and clawed blindly at them—
