Page 50 of Make You Love Me
“I don’t blush.” She sets the napkin over her thighs and crosses them.
“And you’re fidgeting. Whatever is the matter, Avery?” I tease, enjoying the carefree conversation. Nora and I used to have the same before…
“What is it?” Avery asked, leaning on the table. “Did you remember something else? You’ve gone pale.”
Ignoring her, my thoughts dive deeper into the past. To a wedding reception.
???
10 Months Ago
“Are you going to go talk to her or just stand here, gawking at her like a jackass?” Mark asks. We’ve been friends since Basic, both serving under Jackson before transferring to Sergeant Montgomery’s unit together. He doesn’t know my history withthe most beautiful woman to grace my presence. I save that for my closest confidants. But any fool can read my face and follow my eyes. They’ve been laser-focused on Nora since she walked in.
In a crowded room at Jackson and Emily’s estate, even through the dim light, commotion, and music, there’s no denying how much I need my hands on her. Need to hear her sexy voice and get lost in her gaze. Both are beyond tempting. More than dangerous. I’ve never been able to resist her, and at this moment, I don’t want to.
Two months ago, I saw her for the first time after a long separation. We’d both gone to the same restaurant with friends—she’s sitting with some of them now. At that run-in, we didn’t talk much beyond an awkward greeting. For some reason, she seemed embarrassed to know me, but then again, that’s normal Nora behavior when it comes to me.
I brushed it off after several unsuccessful attempts to get her alone so we could catch up, but that one interaction was enough to replant her firmly in my thoughts. I haven’t been able to dig her out of my mind since. No matter how she treats me, it’s like I’m addicted to her, willing to endure whatever for one glance, one touch, one moment of her attention. And after seeing her in the tight, green dress tonight, hugging her hips and dropping off her silky shoulders, I need to touch her before I implode.
I take a step in her direction, ignoring the crude encouragement Mark’s spouting behind me. My resolve is dialed in, my target selected. There’s no escaping. I will have what I want this time.
Halfway to the contact point, she notices me. My hand casually slides into my pocket, over-confidence and four beers fueling my swagger. Our eyes lock and some sputtering nonsense flutters in my chest as she watches me approach. The other women turn in my direction when she disengages fromtheir conversation. They scatter like mice when the cat struts into the room. Yeah, that’s me—a cat on the prowl for his next meal. And that delicious meal is Nora Jean Taylor.
Once she’s in my arms, I will devour her. Inch by inch, I will taste and savor and—
Within touching distance now, her scent washes over me, and I freeze. The combination of lavender and something else I’ve never encountered before is different than I remember. Stronger, sexier. It’s enough to knock my confidence down three notches and reduce me to a pile of mush at her feet. Then again, she could rub on dirt from the garden and dress in a paper bag, and I’d still find her irresistible.
“Hi,” I say with all the suave I can muster from the slivers that remain.
“Hi. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. You look beautiful as always.”
“Thank you.”
Enveloped in her calming scent, I stare through the haze, trying to capture a clear memory of her in this moment. How the overhead string lights sparkle in her eyes. The soft wave of her long hair, spilling over her right shoulder. The sultry way she’s holding my gaze with intrigue and challenge.
Is she glad to see me? Her welcoming posture, shoulders open toward me instead of curved away as she was at the restaurant, eyes bright, and crooked smile, tells me she’s not retreating or hiding tonight. She’s inviting me to take a shot at seducing her and in front of all these people. She brings her wine glass to her lips and sips while holding eye contact. Damn, I hope alcohol isn’t what’s fueling this change in her.
“Do you want to sit?” she asks, resting the base of the glass on her shoulder. But the question only shocks me into another stupor. Based on our last interaction, it’s the exact oppositeresponse I expect, quadrupling my already crippling desire for her.
“Actually, I rather dance.” I reach out a hand and count the heart beats drumming in my ears until her palm slides over mine. It’s warm and velvet soft and bringing back memories of the hours I spent exploring every inch of her skin.
Lacing our fingers together, I lead the way through the intermingling couples to the dance floor. Spinning her around, I take in the view before pulling her close. We sway to the beat while the lead singer of Journey belts the lyrics ofSeparate Ways. How ironic this song should play now.
Here we stand
Worlds apart, hearts broken in two
Someday love will find you
True love won’t desert you
You know I still love you
Though we touched and went our separate ways
It might as well be our theme song. I’ve always loved this girl, yet I walk away over and over. Why? Is it because that’s what she wants? What about what I want? Having her back in my arms and feeling her melt into me breathes life and a new resolve into me. My life had been empty without her, and I didn’t know.
