Chapter 10 #3
Amanda stared at Alex over the rim of the rocks glass.
Her heart was beating so fast, it felt like her chest was going to explode, and she couldn’t stop smiling.
Jeez, she wasn’t just smiling, she was grinning from ear to ear.
There was something about being with him that tugged at her heart, body, and soul. God, she was in trouble here.
They were in such a different place now compared to last week. She still couldn’t believe she’d snapped at him the way she had. She’d been so petulant—she’d even called him a felon right to his face.
His reaction had been remarkable. Actually, something she couldn’t forget: watching him gather his thoughts, then answer everything she’d thrown his way, evenly and determinedly.
It didn’t escape her, either, that she’d given him a chance to scold her for the things that had been bothering him as well. And he’d taken it.
She couldn’t blame him; she was the one who tried to push every button of his she could.
Some of it was a reaction to that kiss they’d shared.
Not just the kiss, the entire episode that surrounded that kiss.
She’d almost screeched when he’d thrown his stuff aside and chased after her.
And the way he’d grabbed her from behind and held her.
Forget the kiss, when she felt his breath on her neck and the slight scratch of his whiskers on her face, she’d almost dissolved into hyperventilation right then.
And tonight, when he’d left after dinner—because like an idiot, she had asked him to—she could think of nothing else but him.
She’d been so distracted putting Callie to bed, she hadn’t heard half of the things Callie had said, including the request to let go of the toothpaste so she could actually use it.
Yep, at that moment she knew she was coming over to see Alex.
The anticipation had only built from then until he’d opened the door and pulled her inside. And it was still building.
He reached out now to trace the side of her face, and she found herself leaning into his touch. “I thought we were going to dance, Montgomery.”
“Oh, we are,” he promised, taking the glass back and putting it down on the piano. Then he led her to the space right in front of the windows.
She watched as he fished his phone out of his pocket, fumbling with it and chuckling at the same time. It was a charming display. She’d never seen him so relaxed, carefree. Or if she had, she didn’t remember it. She touched his face to get his attention. “Did we dance together before, Alex?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, looking down at her so seriously. “Every chance we had.”
Wow. The things he did to her. He turned his head and kissed her palm, then pressed the screen of his phone again, and swore, “Bloody hell—hey, Siri, play ‘Amanda playlist.’”
“You named a playlist after me?” she asked, unable to suppress her grin.
“Yeah.”
He took her hands and lifted them around his neck. Circled her waist and pulled her forward till she was so close she had to look up at him. Then he brushed his lips across her forehead and pulled her in as Jason Mraz’s “I Won’t Give Up” started playing.
He whispered the lyrics as he slowly moved them around their makeshift dancefloor. She burrowed her head in the crook of his neck, not able to believe how amazing it felt. Three songs later, she pulled away to ask, “Do you think I had one too?”
“One what, Amanda?”
“A playlist. For you.” He looked down, suddenly busy putting her hair behind her ears.
“I think you did. I just…I think when things became too much for you, you—”
“You think I erased it?” she asked, screwing up her face at the awful thought. God, had she been that heartbroken that she couldn’t even keep a playlist?
She remembered that she’d dated before, even been in love, but a man had never affected her like that. What had she and Alex been like together? Amanda shook her head. “No way, Alex. Where’s my jacket?”
He gave her an indulgent smile and used that same head motion he used on his team, minus the “move” part. She turned in the direction he’d nodded to see her jacket hanging over the banister. Amanda went over to it and reached into its pocket, pulling out her own phone.
Sitting down on the step, too impatient to wait, she opened her playlists, chancing a glance up at Alex before she dug in.
He stood, leaning against the railing, watching as she scrolled through.
Everything looked normal: Workout, Meditation, Callie’s Faves.
And then she saw something that caught her eye and she paused, her finger over the screen.
Amanda looked up at Alex. He raised a brow as she wet her lips, feeling breathless again. “I think I found it.”
“You did?” His shock was real as he sat next to her.
They leaned against each other while looking at the screen.
She was terrified and excited at the same time.
She’d never even thought to look at her music library.
Some music professional she was. Amanda Abigail, you of all people should have known there would be a trail of this sort.
He saw what she did. “Bloody hell, Amanda,” he breathed, just as surprised as she was.
Because there it was, the playlist she’d named “The Spy Who Loved Me.” She looked at him then, and it felt like a valve released. She started to cry. She didn’t mean to, it just happened. It wasn’t an all-out bawl fest or anything, just a few tears shed in relief.
And another piece of the puzzle clicking into place.
A deeper layer too. This wasn’t an image or a flashback.
It was a tangible feeling right here, right now.
And for her, a bit of evidence that everything she’d felt for Alexander Montgomery since he’d brought her home from the hospital was real… was true.
She wondered if it was just the title of the playlist or if that song was on it. “Hey,” Alex said softly, wiping at the tears beneath her eyes. “You okay?”
“Did we dance to that song?” she asked before looking through the list.
He smiled, cupping her face. “Did we dance to it?” he repeated. “Amanda, you sang that song to me almost every night we were together.”
“Can we—”
He nodded, and it felt like they were racing against time as he laced their hands together and pulled her back to the living room. She was shaking when she started scrolling through her list, but then Alex shook his head, took her phone, and put it in his pocket.
“Why’d you do that?”
“I’ve got this. Hey, Siri, play our song.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he whispered, pulling her in flush against him as the keys sounded on the speakers, seconds before Carly Simon’s beautiful voice belted out their song.
And when Alex moved her around their dance floor again, she could only imagine what this man had meant to her—because that song was akin to her dream song; her every girlhood fantasy come to life.
“That song, Alex,” she told him as they continued to sway back and forth. “I never—”
“Played it for anyone.”
“It was—”
“What you imagined singing to—”
“The spy who loved—”
He shook his head. “Loves.”
“You’re really a spy.”
“Was.”
“Did I have secrets?”
“Not from me. And we didn’t keep secrets from each other.”
“You kept them safe?”
“I tried, Amanda. Bloody hell, I tried.”
“Start it over.”
He did, then pulled her in close again, cupped the back of her head, and pressed her face into his neck. They both shuddered as he rocked her back and forth for the umpteenth time that night.
When they were done, he walked her home, holding her hand the entire time. They didn’t talk about the kids, they didn’t talk about the past; it seemed they’d finally found that middle ground they had been searching for.
And as it happened, it turned out to be one of the nicest evenings she could remember. And that included the kiss he’d given her on her front steps.
She watched him walk back down the drive, where he turned and waved one last time, then she may have skipped up the steps, feeling like a teenager and floating on air for the rest of the night.