Page 37 of My Turkish Fling
I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down, chest rising and falling. The black dress shirt he wore made him look even more menacing. So sexy. So infuriating. “Why was he holding your hand?”
I blinked several times, trying to hop onto his train of thought. “Len? You mean Len?”
“His name is Len? Like… Leonard?”
“No, I think it’s just Len. I’m not sure. Why?”
“Sounds like half a name.”
I rounded my eyes in mock outrage. “Well, he’s not as tall as you, so he doesn’t get a full four letters.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and I held my breath. Would there be a smile? Please, God, let there be a smile! But the twitching settled, and his eyes hardened again. “Why was Len holding your hand?”
My lungs deflated, irritation coiling in my gut again. “Are you seriously asking me that?”
He shrugged, maintaining the indignant look in his eyes. “It’s a bit… forward on the first date, isn’t it?”
“Forward?” My eyes rounded in disbelief. “He’s a pastor. He practically has a degree in hand holding! I was upset and talking about my divorce. He held my hand. How is that forward? You haven’t taken me out once and we’ve dry humped against my bedroom wall.”
“He’s a pastor?” Emir’s eyes flashed with alarm. He pushed the plate of pizza towards me. “Please, eat.”
I huffed. “This is not a date, Emir.” I wagged my finger betweenus. “This is me blowing off my date. I have to go back there, soon.”
He looked away, seemingly embarrassed. Then his gaze returned, burning with passion. “I don’t think I’m making myself understood. What I’m asking is… how is it going? Are you enjoying this date? Is there going to be a second date?”
I briefly considered making him suffer, but he looked so desolate I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him. “Emir. I ditched my date to sit here with you. There’s no coming back from this. I can’t build anything new with this guy when I’m acting like this. I’m angry with you, but I’m furious with myself.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry I ruined it for you.”
I got up. “I’m going to go back in and thank him for a lovely evening, make up an excuse, and then I’ll give you a ride home. It’ll be the second time I’m lying to a pastor. I’ll be going to hell. I hope you’re happy.”
He stood up and blocked my way. “Don’t lie. Tell him the truth.”
“And what would that be?”
“That you’re not available.”
I took a step closer, placing my hands on his chest. “Why am I not available?”
“Because you’re here with me.”
I sighed. “I’m a stupid woman.”
He pulled me into him, leaning his forehead against mine. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish I was more like my brother. He’s a leaper. But I’m not like that. I keep looking ahead, and I can’t figure out how to make it work. Which means we must prepare for the end.”
I pulled back, giving him a pointed look. “How about we have the middle first? If you keep thinking like that, you’ll never experience anything. It’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
He threw out his arms, eyes thunderous. “Then, tell me how it’s going to work! I fly back to Istanbul. You stay here. We meet up in the middle once a year?”
I dragged my bottom lip between my teeth, frustration coursing through me. I folded my arms, staring back at him defiantly. “I don’t know. Sometimes life surprises you.”
“How, Janie? Will the continents move? Will my parents suddenly embrace the idea that both of their children live on the other side of the world? What about your sons, Janie? I haven’t even met them, but I bet they’d like to have their mother around.”
I hung my head, defeated. Because he was right. All I had was an unfounded faith in things miraculously working out. That was my nature, just like the cold practicality was his. Yet, he wanted me. I could feel it, and the thought gave me hope.
“Maybe we could have a fling?” I winced at the words as they floated out into the warm night air. “People have flings.”
“I don’t.” He shook his head, eyes drawn. “I mean, I haven’t been with anyone since…” His voice fizzled out.
