Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Leena
My hand is engulfed in his much larger palm, the combination of his touch and my name repeated in that gravelly whisper sends a shock of electricity racing up my arm.
I’m unable to look away from Julian’s eyes, and it leaves me feeling unsettled by the instant connection that seems to blaze between us.
Oh my god, it’s just physical attraction, that’s all it is. Get a damn grip, Leena!
Instant connections only happen in movies and books, not real life.
It has to be the adrenaline rush of everything that happened so quickly.
One minute we seemed to be sharing flirty glances, and then his body was pressed up against my back as he fell into me.
The pain in my ankle had been almost nonexistent in that initial moment as I was engulfed in the heat and strength of his much larger body.
Wanting to hide my reaction to this man, I pull my hand from his and look down at my injured ankle.
My cheeks are on fire, but thankfully we’re interrupted as a barista approaches the table with my drink. As she inquires how I am, Julian pulls up another chair and sits across from me.
“Anything for you, sir?” she asks him.
“Just a black coffee, please. Medium roast,” he responds while barely taking his eyes off me.
When I had first turned around to see why the lady in front of me was not paying attention to the moving line, dark blue, almost gray eyes stared back at me, drawing me in.
Sitting here now with the sunlight streaming in from the large front windows, the blue of his perfectly tailored suit makes his eyes appear more blue.
The pattern of his irises reminds me of blooming flower petals.
Breathless, I’m transfixed by him.
He slips a tan leather bag off his broad shoulder, placing it on the floor beside him.
The crisp white shirt unbuttoned at his neck gapes open and shifts with the movement, accentuating his tanned skin and emphasizing the flexing muscles.
My lips part involuntarily as I remember the feel of his firm chest and strong thighs cradling my body when he had been pressed up against my back as he fell into me.
Dropping my eyes from the intense gaze he has sharply focused on me, I hope my hair will conceal the flush heating my cheeks and neck. I’ve never reacted to someone this way before, much less a complete stranger.
My head is a mess. Every time I allow my eyes to skim over him, I notice another thing about him that makes it harder to look away. He sits so calm and composed, I can’t help but wonder if Julian is as affected by our encounter as I am.
“You seemed to be waiting for someone earlier. Will they be upset to find you sitting with a stranger?” His deep voice rumbles a little cockily with a smirk, breaking the charged silence.
Openly staring, I appraise his other features freely now.
Strong brows over his captivating eyes, a sharp nose, full lips, straight white teeth, and a square jaw covered in a neatly trimmed beard.
But it’s his smile, with a single dimple made prominent by the grin, that tells me he knows he is hot and has been on the receiving end of many appreciative glances.
“A friend was supposed to meet me, but her girls are sick. She had just texted right before you so rudely bumped into me.” The cheeky response surprises me, but I continue. “You could have just introduced yourself instead of going to such extremes to get my attention.”
He barks out a laugh. “I was getting to it! You just seemed distracted though, so I was waiting to see if a boyfriend might be meeting you.”
Placing my elbow on the table, I rest my chin on my palm. “Is that your way of asking if I’m single?” I challenge.
Leaning in, Julian rumbles, “Sorta, yeah. Are you?”
The deep timber of his voice makes me clench my thighs against the sudden ache in my core.
Tilting my head to the side, I purse my lips as I look at the man across from me. The smile on his face falters when I don’t immediately answer. I’m about to speak when a cup is placed on the table in front of Julian.
He lifts his hand, a credit card held between two fingers. I’ve been so trapped in the snare of eyes, I didn’t even see him retrieve the card.
Never breaking eye contact, he tells her, “For both drinks.” I open my mouth to tell him that’s unnecessary, but he cuts me off. “The least I can do is pay for your drink. Especially after I so rudely bumped into you.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“My pleasure.” He narrows his eyes with laser focus and unashamedly returns to his early question. “So? You didn’t answer me. Are you single?”
Being the recipient of his undivided attention is a heady sensation. “Yes,” I reply in a breathless whisper.
What is wrong with me?
I internally cringe at my unmistakable and pathetic reaction to this man. With his looks and that smile, women must fall all over themselves trying to attract his attention.
“Good.” He visibly relaxes and sits back in his chair. And I bite my lip, hoping to hide my own satisfaction.
Julian’s watch pings with a notification. As he looks down, I take a steadying breath. This man unnerves, but excites me. I’m flooded with relief that he does seem as interested in me as I am in him.
Looking up from his watch with a grimace, he runs a large hand through his hair, touseling his neatly styled brown locks that appear to be naturally sun streaked with a few silver strands at his temple.
“I’ve completely lost track of time. I have a meeting I need to get to.
Though I would enjoy nothing more than to stay and finish my coffee with you, I really have to go.
” With a forlorn expression, he really does appear to look disappointed.
A thrill shoots through me at his obvious reluctance to part ways. “Oh, of course. I should get going, too.”
I bend forward to grab my sock and shoe, but Julian beats me to it.
I shiver as his large calloused hands gingerly slide my sock on my foot, then untie the laces and stretch open the shoe to gently slip it on.
He lifts his head to stare at me—his irises appear more gray than blue at the moment, forming a dark ring around his dilated pupils.
The ache in my core intensifies as his hand rests for a moment on my calf before he lightly squeezes the muscle.
Releasing me, he hops to his feet and helps me swing my injured leg to the ground. “Let me help you out.”
I start to shake my head. “I think I’m okay—”
“I insist.”
My lips curl up as he slips his arm around my back.
I wrap my left arm around his waist and place my other hand on his firm stomach to balance myself.
With his proximity, I’m engulfed in the scent of bergamot and vanilla.
I would question if it was the smell of a London Fog as we are in a coffee shop, but I only registered it when his large palm gripped my waist and pulled me against his tall and muscular body.
His long fingers slip under the hem of my shirt, the exposed skin burns where they slowly caress my side.
Looking up into his eyes—he towers over me by at least a foot—I’m lost in a desire to be even closer to him. I unconsciously lean in.
But the spell is broken when the barista returns with Julian’s card. He reaches for it, his eyes still never leaving mine, and slips the card into his pants pocket as the employee walks away. Picking up my drink, he hands it to me, then grabs his—all while keeping one arm securely around me.
Clearing his throat, he asks if I’m ready. I nod.
Silently and slowly, we make our way out of the coffee shop.
I smile and carefully wave my hand holding my drink at the weary-looking mother and her adorable scooter-riding menace quietly sitting in the corner.
I might be limping and my ankle is throbbing, but because of him, I’m wrapped up in Julian’s arms.
It feels nice and . . . right.
When we are on the sidewalk, I indicate my car parked down the block. “I’m the Grand Cherokee.”
Looking up the street as we start walking, the familiar creeping vines and weathered sign for Nonna’s grab my attention.
Growing up, my dad was the owner and chef of the local Italian restaurant, which was our home away from home.
I can’t help but smile remembering all the fun my brother, sister, and I had.
Downtown Bayberry Park was an endless playground for my siblings and me.
As we approach the driver’s door, I say, “It’ll unlock. The key is in my pocket.”
Julian carefully pulls the handle and opens my door with the hand holding his coffee while keeping a firm hold on my waist. He seems reluctant to let me go until he absolutely has to.
I look up at him and smile, then begrudgingly pull away and reach across the driver’s seat to put my drink in the middle console cup holder before turning back to Julian.
He’s glancing across the street, face tight. His beard cannot disguise the flexing of his jaw. I’m about to thank him for the coffee and helping me to my car when an unmistakable buzzing stops me. Reaching into his breast pocket, he removes his phone.
Squeezing his eyes shut and breathing deeply through his nose, after a pause, he releases an exhale and looks back at me. “I’m so sorry, I need to take this call.” With a press of his thumb, he brings the phone to his ear while stepping back onto the sidewalk. “Hello?”
Turning his back on me, my eyes flit up and down the street. My fingers begin tugging at the hem of my shorts.
“Yes, that’s no problem. I’m sure I can find it,” he says.
Thrown by the abrupt change in his demeanor and withdrawal, a taunting voice in my head starts questioning if this phone call is one of those fake emergencies—a way to end our interaction.
All at once, a heaviness sweeps through my body.
I carefully swing my legs in and sharply jerk the door closed.
Sagging into my seat, I try to ignore the feeling of disappointment swirling in my gut at what I thought was a significant encounter leading nowhere before I finally start the car and drive away.