Page 34 of Make You Love Me
“That’s a shame. You would know if you saw it and based on how innocently you said that…you don’t.” I wink and secretly wish for number six to be checked off the list sooner than later.
“Hmm,” is all she says to dignify my comment. “Ready for the next taste test?”
“Sure.”
She moves the used glasses—more like shot glasses on blue twisted stems—aside and pulls two yellow ones out of the box set. “Which flavor would you like to try next?”
“How about the gold one to match our glasses?”
“Perfect.”
While she fills each glass, I’m reminded of the night we met. The three girls—Nora, Sydney, and Denise—had ordered a bottle of champagne to share. Us guys—me, Will, and Benji—ordered the cheapest beer on the menu. Like today, I couldn’t take my eyes off Nora while she expertly opened the bottle and filled the glasses for everyone. She knew exactly how to hold the glass for a smooth pour and when to stop to prevent the bubbles from spilling over. Her tongue trailed over her lips in concentration, sending blood gushing to my other brain.
“I forgot how good you were at that. It only makes me want you more,” I venture, causing her to pause on the way to passing me a glass.
“You think pouring liquids into a glass is sexy?”
“Oh, yeah. But only when you do it. Nothing stands at attention for anyone else.” I nod to the aforementioned, easily influenced brain for emphasis.
“Is that so?”
“Is there anything I do that turns you on?” I’m phishing, but desperate times call for equally desperate questions.
She gave me a long, searching look, and for a moment, I wonder what she’s trying to figure out. It’s not like my feelings for her are a secret, but unfortunately, hers are. After all this time, is she still unsure about her own heart? About me?
“If I told you,” she begins, dropping her eyes, “it would take out all the fun and mystery.”
“Indulge me with one.”
She set those devastating dark eyes on me and grinned. “Your new body turns me on.”
“You like scars, bruises, and broken bones?” Of course, I know what she meant, but I’m curious about what she’ll say next.
“No. Those break my heart.”
Her eyes drift to the wine she’d yet to drink. I miss them on me. I miss the sparkle they had just moments ago before something I said or she thought cloaked them in sadness.
“What then?” I urge, bringing her back to me.
“Your Italian cheese, meat, and fruit board has arrived,” someone, other than our disinterested waitress with a drawn-out southern accent, asks. “I bet you two darlings are ready for some yummy food. Am I right?”
Neither of us darlings jump to answer. Nora’s gaze drops first, and after a long pause, she speaks up.
“Can we get this boxed up instead? We’d like to go enjoy the view and fresh air.” She said it without looking at me, spiking my wandering curiosity.
“Why, of course. The vineyard this time of year is so romantic. Be sure to take the east trail. It has the best mountain views.” She frames the side of her mouth as if the next thing she says is a secret. “And with the surrounding grove, it’s the most private. If you know what I mean.” She elbows Nora and sashays away with the tray.
“The most private, huh? Now, I’m intrigued.” It’s a risk to bring up intimacy, but I can’t help myself. Despite my injuries,there’s nothing I’d rather have than Nora’s naked body on mine…in broad daylight, where I can appreciate every inch of her again.
Her gaze cuts to mine with slight irritation and a sliver of amusement. She enjoys my dick as much as I do, if not more, and I know she’s suppressing the urge to jump me. She had to work extra hard at it this morning. It’s only a matter of time before we both get what we want.
I lean in, ready to get this ball rolling. “Did you know that number six involves a tree? Sounds like fate to me.”
“A tree? Seriously? You’re in—Jordan. Jordan,” she says again. In my head, I’m responding, but hear nothing. She’s right here, but it sounds as if she’s shouting at me from across the room. Is she trying to warn me about something? Am I sitting on an ant hill? With the way my body tingles and stings, maybe I am. Maybe I’m already covered in the little shits. I’d swat them away if my arms would move.
A chair scrapes against the hardwood floor, and that’s where my attention falls, thanks to my muscles letting me down. My head slumps, and then my shoulders. All I can see is four feet, the light of the room fading in and out around us. Her hands land on my shoulders, propping me up.
“This isn’t happening,” Nora complains, missing her usual sass. Fear soaks every letter. “Jordan, listen to my voice. Focus on me, a knot in the floorboard, something. Focus, Jordan, on something outside the darkness.”
