“Why didn’t you?” I ask.
“I was scared of how it might change us.”
“Yeah... I get that,” I say. “It’s what kept me from telling you how I really felt about you.”
“And now look at all the time we’ve wasted.”
“Let’s not waste any more,” I say breathlessly.
The waiter returns to take our order, but neither of us has even glanced at our menus. We exchange a look and something unspoken passes between us, a mutual realization that food is the last thing on our minds.
“Let’s get out of here,” Angel says suddenly, standing up so swiftly his chair scrapes loudly against the floor.
I nod, feeling every nerve ending alight with anticipation as I rise to follow him. He throws down some cash on the table to compensate the waiter for his time and we hurry out of Gianni’s and into the night.
We don’t speak as we make our way back to his Jeep. There’s no need for words when every shared glance is charged with longing and desire.
Angel opens my door with urgency etched into every line of his body. As soon as we’re both inside and he starts up the engine, he reaches over and grabs my hand tight enough to convey all that we’re feeling. The heat, the hunger, and an overwhelming need for each other that can’t wait any longer.
Chapter 12Iris
“Where are we going,” I ask with anticipation. I know what we’re on our way to do, but I don’t know where we’re going to do it. Surely, not my parents’ house, but maybe he’s got something else in mind.
“Home,” he says, his eyes focused on the road.
It isn’t long before we hit the long driveway that heads up to his family’s land. I haven’t been up here since there was just the one house. I’m anxious to see what it all looks like now but not as anxious as I am to see where this night is going to take us.
It’s mostly dark but I can see the five homes coming into view and they’re all a lot bigger than I thought they’d be. He pulls into the driveway of the house closest to his parents’ and shuts the Jeep off.
He gets out and rushes around to my door, opening it for me and offering his hand. I take it and get out, trying hard to ignore the way my body still aches from the crash. I’m going to be sore tomorrow for sure, but I’ll just have to be careful because I’ve been dreaming of this moment for almost twenty years. A few cuts and bruises and aches and pains aren’t going to stop me now.
We hurry inside and as soon as the door is closed, his big, strong arms are around me pulling me close. His lips are on mine. We make our way up the stairs and down the hall before finally managing to find his bedroom. I’m not sure how we made it because we haven’t untangled from each other since we walked through the door.
We crash onto the bed and his hands are all over me, teasing, caressing... He pushes the hem of my shirt up and I sit up for a second so he can guide it off of me before lying back again. He pulls away and looks down at my body, his brows furrow as he studies me.
“Baby,” he says, concern lacing the word.
“What’s wrong,” I ask, suddenly conscious that maybe my body isn’t good enough for him. I’ve always prided myself on loving myself no matter what, and that won’t change, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a pang of defensiveness at his reaction.
“Your body—”
“What about it?” I ask, sitting up and scooting away from him.
“We can’t do this right now.”
I grab my shirt and pull it back on. “Yeah, I think maybe we shouldn’t do this at all.”
“You’re still hurting,” he says.
“What?” I ask, completely confused.
“The bruises,” he says and puts his hand on my thigh. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I let out a laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“I thought...” I say pursing my lips together.
“Thought what?”
“I thought you changed your mind when you got a good eye full of all this,” I say, gesturing over myself.
“Why in the fuck would I do that?” I shrug, not wanting to admit that I felt inadequate for those few moments of weakness. “I love everything about you, baby. Your mind, your stubbornness... Your beautiful fucking curves...,” he says leaning in to kiss my neck, sending heat racing all over my body. “But I’ve waited a very long time for this, and I don’t want to be gentle. I don’t want to hold back... And I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” I breathe.
“Yes, I will,” he says and subtly licks his bottom lip.
A pang of disappointment courses through me, mingling with the throb of my bruises. Angel's hands, once fiery with urgency, now soften with concern. I'm not angry, though. The truth is, my body is a map of aches and tender spots, and the thought of navigating passion with pain as a third wheel holds no allure.
“You’re right. I need to heal,” I say quietly, the words tasting like resignation. “You can take me back to my parents’ house whenever you want.”
He shakes his head, his green eyes piercing in their intensity. “And what if I don’t want to take you there at all? What if I want to keep you here and help nurse you back to health?”
I consider protesting, but my heart isn't in it. Instead, I nod and settle into his embrace, the familiar scent of him wrapping around me as our lips meet in a soft, sensuous kiss.
We're here now, close in a way we haven't been in years, and it's enough to make me forget the physical pain for a moment. Memories surface unbidden, sneaking out to meet under starlight, sharing dreams we were sure would never fade. We breathe life into them again with our whispers.
