AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You look fantastic yourself,amore mio. I’ve never seen your hair pulled up like that. Very sophisticated.”
She felt the blush crawl up her neck to her cheeks, her heart hammering under his praise. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She rubbed her hands together, more to ward off the nervous energy than anything else. “Did you want a drink before we leave?”
His eyes raked over her face and slid down her body, and she felt the heat as if he were touching her. Shivers ran down her body; her panties dampened, and if she’d tell anyone it had been thirty years since that had happened, they’d call her a liar, but it was most assuredly true. Then he stepped forward, and the backs of his fingers brushed her cheek before sliding along her jaw and to the nape of her neck. Her eyes closed at the feel of his warm work-roughened hand on her, and her breathing grew heavy.
“David,” she whispered, and he groaned before leaning forward and kissing her lips. The feel of his lips, so soft and commanding on hers, made her knees weak. She snaked her arms around his waist and stepped closer, enjoying the feel of his body pressed to hers. His breathing grew ragged, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t get a thrill from that. He was still affected by her and she him; so, there was that.
He pulled back, his sexy blue eyes lazy and bright. She noticed his lashes were still thick and full and framed his deep blue irises perfectly. Sexy.
“We should go, Kiera. I made us a reservation at Little Italy.”
“Oh.” She swallowed, and her eyes welled. “Have you been there?”
She looked into his eyes and felt relieved when he looked into hers. “No.” His voice deepened. It sent a shiver through her again.
“I meant …” Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I meant Italy. Have you ever gone? We’d always talked about going one day. I just wondered if you had.”
The backs of his fingers brushed her cheek, and she turned her face into his hand. “No.” He stood back and tucked his sexy fingers into his front pockets. The loss left her bereft. “I couldn’t.”
Slowly nodding her head, she replied, “Me neither. I suppose it makes me a bad person that I feel relieved at hearing this.”
He took a step back. “Then I’m just as bad as you are.”
* * *
As they stepped from the elevator and onto the parking lot, she gasped when she saw his car. “Is this the same car?” She stopped to take in his little beauty. A 1965 Ford Mustang convertible. He’d had it completely restored a few years ago. It had been a point of contention between himself and Rita, his ex, for many years. She knew he’d kept the car because it reminded him of Kiera, and she hated it. He’d tucked it away in the back of the garage for a time until his heart and his mind would allow him to refurbish it without breaking down and feeling the heartache once more.
“Yes. It looks a bit different now, don’t you think?” He watched her expression, and the emotions shading her eyes almost broke him.
Her hands flew to her face; her eyes teared up, and she stood as still as a statue. The little tendrils of hair softly floated on the light breeze, and he thought she’d never looked more beautiful.
She dabbed under her eyes and then sought his. He watched her swallow, open her mouth to say something, and then clamp her lips together. A sob escaped, and she held her breath for a moment. Whisper soft, she stated, “You kept it? All these years, you kept it.”
He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and handed it to her. Her lips trembled into a smile. “Thank you,” she managed to say.
“Rita, my wife—ex-wife—hated this car.” He turned and lovingly looked at the mustang, her silver=smoke gray coat shining under the sun’s rays, her red interior brightly beckoning them to join her. “I couldn’t get rid of her. I’d thought about it a few times, especially when money was tight. But, I couldn’t.”
Kiera’s hand slid into his, and he squeezed. “She’s beautiful. You’ve done a fabulous job restoring her, David.”
“When I divorced Rita, I started working on it. I’d purchased the house I live in now, mostly because it has a second garage, and I could work on her out there.” He pointed to the car. “And any other projects I wanted to without tripping over tools and parts in my main garage. I spent my evenings tearing her apart and rebuilding her. It took me three years to get all the parts and put her back together. Then I had a friend paint her. Last, but not least, I special ordered the upholstery to be done. I sent her out to California, and she was gone almost a year.”
Pulling Kiera forward, he opened the door and showed her the interior. “They relined the doors, the console, the dashboard—everything.”
“Wow, I’m stunned.” She lovingly ran her hands along the back of the passenger seat, and a soft smile graced her lips. “I remember sitting in this seat with its cracks and tears, and I thought it was the best seat in the house because it was in your car.”
That did it. His eyes watered and a gasp escaped his lungs. Kiera’s head snapped up, and she immediately walked to him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.
“I’m so sorry, David. I’m sorry.”
* * *
Driving to the restaurant, his mind raced. He was falling again, or maybe still. But he had to be careful. He couldn’t—not ever—go through what she’d put him through before. Never. Period. He made small talk—work, the weather, her condo—to allow him time to get his emotions under control. When he was with her, all he wanted to do was hold her, touch her, feel her touching him, but he still didn’t know how stable she was or if she was truly sorry she’d left him in the first place. Did she believe it was a mistake? If so, he could begin to allow himself to forgive her for the hurt.
Arriving at Little Italy, he pulled up to the valet stand, and the young man on duty broke into a grin from ear to ear.
“Great car.” He whistled, and David chuckled.
