Page 71 of Into These Eyes
“You’re having way too much fun to be sorry.”
“And I love that you are too.”
He’s right. It’s been so long since I’ve felt free and happy, since I’ve hadfun. Maybe as long as it’s been for him.
But I’m pretty damn sure that’s not why my face is on fire. Because, oh myGod, I’m sitting in his lap, and his fingers on my waist keep gently squeezing and releasing, as if he can’t decide what to do with them.
“I should …” As I make a move to free myself, his restless fingers tighten on my waist.
“Don’t go yet,” he says softly, like he’s making a wish.
I freeze, our eyes locking. The way he’s looking at me … it’s pulling me in.
“I want to show you something, remember?”
I nod dumbly, afraid my voice might crack if I attempt to speak.
He shuffles me around until I slide between his bent legs. My butt hits the warm sand as he rests his forearms on his knees, his chin hovering over my shoulder.
Although he’s no longer touching me, his presence is everywhere, encapsulating me in an embrace of pure energy. It buzzes with life, warmth and promise in the miniscule space between us. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so protected, aswholeas I do right now.
Right beside my ear, he murmurs, “How long since you’ve stared out as far as the eye can see?”
I don't have to think about it. “When I was a kid.”
“Yeah? Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Although I’m looking at the ocean, my mind’s only aware of what’s directly around me.
Him.
Pushing the thought aside, I take in the horizon, the sun sparkling on the water, the different shades of emerald as the waves swell, then break. Seagulls hover on the stiff breeze, the sounds of their squawks mixing with the crashing ocean.
He’s so right. In this moment, absorbing all these sensations, the stress in my life ebbs away. “It’s truly stunning.”
“In prison,” he says, his breath tickling my ear, “you can never see the horizon. There’s no space, no beauty. Only walls and fences and razor wire. The exact opposite of this.”
Tenderness floods through me. He’s letting me in again, revealing an important lesson he had to learn in the most atrocious way. And he’s passing it on, reminding me what shouldn’t be taken for granted when it’s freely available.
The heat of his chest radiates into my back, and I can’t resist the temptation anymore. I ease into him just a centimetre, asif it’s a total accident, and warmth spreads across my shoulder blades as I connect with his hard chest. I hold my breath, waiting for him to break the contact. He doesn’t. In fact, I’m sure the pressure against my back increases. As if he’s pretending it’s unintentional, too.
I long to take his hands and wrap his arms around me, let him rest his chin on my shoulder, and just hold me as we stare out at the amazing expanse of ocean before us.
But I don’t move. I can’t. I don’t really know this man. The problem is, my instincts are screaming all sorts of crazy things, and none of them are the usual warning signals I’ve come to expect on the rare occasion a man shows me any interest. What I need to do is what I always do. Analyse and pick apart every thought, emotion and reaction I’m having.
And once I do that, I’ll be able to reason away these ill-informed instincts.
“Alright, love birds. What’s so fascinatin’?” Benny asks from behind us.
Gavin’s pecs turn to stone against my back. As I leap to my feet and brush the sand from my backside, I glance at Gavin. Jaw clenched, the amusement in his eyes gone, he’s clearly avoiding my gaze. And … is he blushing?
I bring a hand to my cheek, the radiant heat there almost burning my fingers. Thank God he won’t look at me.
When I glance at Benny, he's grinning like the cat who ate the canary.
“We should, ah … probably head back, beat the traffic,” I say.
“Be right behind you,” Gavin mutters.
