Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Ava
Ican't bring myself to move any further away from him.
His arms around me feel right—right for me.
The butterflies in my stomach are having a party.
His hands rub my back, his whispers brush my hair, and the hairs on the back of my neck and arms stand on end.
I try to resist how my body curves into his like it belongs here.
I'm letting myself need this too much. Finally, I force myself to release him, though my fingers linger on his sleeve a moment longer.
Searching my eyes curiously, he breaks the silence. “Oh, I forgot to ask you, did your sister talk to you about taking her spot at the bowling league charity event?”
My eyebrow shoots up as I plant a hand on my hip. “Wait, wait. My sister agreed to bowl? With a belly the size of a beach ball? No, don't answer that, of course she did.”
His head tips back, eyes crinkling at the corners as laughter rumbles deep in his chest. “Yes, she said charity was worth waddling down a lane. But now she's refusing to leave the couch. Her exact words were ‘I look and feel like a beached whale.’”
“God, that phrase. She said it to me at least three times yesterday alone.” I watch his smile, the way sunlight catches in his blond hair, and the air in my lungs is lighter with his presence.
“Sooo…you in?” He playfully throws a piece of hair over my shoulder. “It’s this Saturday morning.”
“Okay, why not. What do you wear to a bowling charity event?” I wave my hands up and down my body.
His eyes drag all the way down, lingering on my legs, and slowly back up.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, and the fabric of my dress swishes.
My thighs rub together, hoping like hell he doesn’t notice…
but he sure does, and his lips curl at one corner.
I squint back at him, narrowing my eyes until they're slits, trying to hide how his lingering gaze affects me.
He brings his hands down his torso, his fingers tracing a slow path over the soft cotton of his polo shirt that clings just enough to hint at what's underneath. “We’re casual, very casual. If you have time, we could play a couple of rounds of laser tag.”
“Oh, well, you may have me at laser tag. Are you any good? Because I like to win.” My eyes widen as I clasp my fingers together, extending my pointer fingers like the barrel of a gun.
I pivot from side to side, making exaggerated shooting motions, complete with ‘pew pew’ sound effects, which make him laugh.
That deep laugh makes me tremble with desire.
“I bowl like a champion, but I’m a top scorer at laser tag. And winning is the name of the game.”
“Then you can be on my team.” I shrug and gesture to him, trying like hell to keep this conversation light, but my body hasn’t received the message.
“Wait a minute. I’m the one inviting you, so I should be the one to pick teams, including whether or not you deserve to be on my team.” He jams his thumb into his chest, but his serious face breaks when I move closer to him.
The hunger in his eyes burns like a slow match.
I’m not the only one fighting it. I chuckle, the sound catching in my throat.
“How does one deserve to be on your team?” I say, lifting my fingers to make exaggerated air quotes around ‘deserve.’ My arms cross over my chest, the soft cotton of my dress pulling taut across my breasts.
His eyes drop, pupils dilating slightly.
When I glance down, I realize I'd forgotten about my coral V-neck dress, how my crossed arms had pushed everything up and together into picture-perfect cleavage.
No wonder his gaze had fallen. Letting my arms drop back to my side, his eyes are back on my face with a smirk.
He must know I saw through it—and made sure the cleavage show didn’t get a sequel.
“Ah, sweetheart, you deserve to be on my team. You literally air shot make-believe people with finger guns. You’re in.”
Did he call me sweetheart again? It melts my heart.
Yeah, yeah, he did, warmth rippling through my body and landing straight in my heart that will burst at any second. I take a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll see you then. Can you text me the details?”
“I’ll text you all the information.” He pulls out his phone, taps out a message, and sends it to me. My phone dings from my handbag.
“Thank you. It really was nice seeing you. I’ll let you get back to it.”
“I’m finished for today. I have to hit up the office and talk with Dane. Only a few things to wrap up there this week, and I’ll be full-time here.”
“Once you set up the furniture and decor, it really will be an amazingly welcoming space. Do you need help with anything?” The way my body reacts to him—the heat rising, my pulse quickening.
“My brother will be helping me later this week. But honestly, I’d love your help. Two guys decorating the space might not be the best thing.”
“I’d love to.” My heart drops to my belly.
No one—not in recent years—has made me feel special like he does.
“When do you think you’ll be ready?” The more time I spend with him.
I’ll take it, though my head is telling me to stop this nonsense and avoid him—avoid whatever this is inside me is saying.
“This weekend, I’d like to have everything set up and then I’ll be a hundred percent ready to open Monday morning.
” He smiles widely, and I want to touch his face, grazing my hands on his sharp jawline and touching his lips.
I resist the urge because earlier he was all-consuming, and I’d love nothing more than to be in his arms. It’s not the right time…
right? Or maybe it is. We have a date scheduled for Wednesday—so why not?
“Okay, we can talk about it on our date, and you can update me on the progress you’ve made here. Oh, that reminds me —can you give me your brother’s number? I want to see if he can take on a small renovation project to add a small bookstore, to start with a few bookshelves.”
He pulls his phone back out and sends me his brother’s contact info. My phone dings again. “Thank you. I’ll get out of your hair.”
“You don’t have to. I enjoy having you here.” He steps a little closer—too close; my body is boiling over full of heat and soaking wet panties. I lean back slightly, not on purpose, but my body is trying to protect me.
I tap him on his arm and say, “Yeah…I apparently have been invited to girls’ dinner tonight at Kendall’s.” When she asked me to join them, I was taken aback, but eternally grateful to be included and spend time with my sister and her newly found friends.
“Oh, I’ve heard about those nights.” He smirks at me. “Have fun, and I’ll see you on Wednesday night.”
“You’ve heard about these nights? You can’t gloss over it now. Tell me what you’ve heard.” I’m tapping my foot, resisting crossing my arms over my chest. What does he know?
“Whoa, okay, okay, I’ll tell you everything, except it’s not much…
I’ve heard Dane and Logan talking about it.
It’s girls only; they eat and drink margaritas.
If it’s at Kendall’s, I’ve heard she has animal floats for the pool, and they talk about everything.
But I have no real details.” He shrugs with a devious smirk on his face.
“Okay, so you’re telling me I’m about to have a ton of fun at Kendall’s night, eating yummy food and drinks? That’s right up my alley.” I raise my hand to give him a high five.
He wasn’t sure what to do at first, then slapped my hand. “Have fun.”
I smile back at him. “I’m definitely going to have a ton of fun. I’ll see you in a couple of days…can’t wait.”
“Me either.” His hundred-watt smile hits me in the heart, shaking me to my core, thinking about spending time with him on Wednesday.
I walk out the door and straight to my car, my knees wobbling with each step.
I grip the steering wheel, but my fingers tremble against the leather.
I close my eyes, picturing us in the hot tub at sunset, his shoulder pressed against mine as the water bubbles with the glow of the gold and orange reflection.
In my mind, I'm laughing at something he's said about work, something only he would notice, and he gazes at me instead of at the view.
He has this effect on me, not only the physical ache low in my belly that I felt the last time we hung out.
No, this is deeper, a yearning that spreads through my chest. I want to sit beside him on his boat, watching the sunset paint the lake copper and gold, while we talk about everything and nothing—his dreams for the business, the stories that have him laughing until his eyes crinkle at the corners, the quiet thoughts he might only share when darkness falls.
I laugh and smile at myself. I can’t wait for our date.