“Oh. My. God,” she said, clearly feeling fine.
“Emme, what the hell? You’re not dizzy?”
She flapped a hand in the air. “No. I made that up to get you alone.”
“You’re as bad as Grams!” I reached for the door handle. “Let me out so he’s not down there alone with her too long. She’ll eat him alive.”
“No!” She shoved my hand away. “Not until we talk.”
I crossed my arms. “About what?”
“About Mr. Biceps down there. Holy shit, his arms are the size of my neck.”
“Yes, he has a nice body.”
“A nice body?” Emme rolled her eyes. “Michelangelo’s David has a nice body. Ryan is ripped as fuck.”
I shrugged, although secretly I was pleased she thought he was hot. “Okay, he’s ripped.”
“And he likes you.” She looked at me shrewdly, her hands tucked behind her lower back. “I don’t know what kind of games he’s playing, but he likes you.”
“He’s not playing games! He’s the most honest man I’ve ever known.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Sorry. I know what he said to you, but I also know what I saw with my own eyes, and he is totally into you.”
I huffed, even though I wanted that to be the truth. “You’re crazy.”
“That’s debatable. But I’ve seen grooms look at their brides with less awe and affection than he looked at you with tonight.”
“I think he was looking at the meatloaf.”
“Then what are you still doing here, Stella?” She parked her hands on her hips.
“I’m being polite. Grams invited him to dinner without telling me.” It was kind of true, but Emme called bullshit.
“I don’t believe you.” She narrowed her eyes. “I know you. If you really believed there was no chance for you and this guy, I don’t think you’d still be here. You’re too practical.”
I gave in, dropping onto the bed. “I don’t know what to do. What he says is one thing. What I feel is another. And what he feels …” I toss up my hands. “Who knows? He claims to feel nothing.”
Emme sighs. “We should get back down there. But I get it, Stella. Now that I see him and you, I get it. Just … be careful. Okay?”
“I’ll try,” I said, unable to make any promises. Somehow I was no longer the girl who insisted on a seatbelt, wore the life vest, waited for the green signal.
I had no idea what I was doing, other than finally following my heart.
Twenty-Six
Ryan
During dinner, I’d missed a call from Mack. He hadn’t left a message.
I stepped out onto the porch and called him back, but it went to voicemail. “Hey, Mack, just saw that you called. Sorry I didn’t answer, I’m at dinner with Stella and her family, believe it or not. But I’ll leave my phone on.”
I hated to do that, knowing it would be rude to jump up and take a call during coffee and dessert, but something wasn’t right. I could feel it. I tried Bones again too, but he didn’t answer, and his voicemail box was full.
Back inside, I was distracted. The dessert was delicious and the coffee—with a shot of whiskey for everyone except Emme—tasted great. But I kept looking at my phone, and Stella sensed something was wrong.
“Everything okay?” she asked, catching me check the screen for the tenth time in ten minutes.
“Yeah.” I couldn’t get into it, but I felt bad when she dropped her gaze to her cup. She didn’t eat much dessert.
As for me, I cleaned my plate and had seconds. I’d learned to eat good food in any situation. You never knew when you’d be hungry again.
When the dessert plates had been cleared and the coffee pot emptied, Stella’s sister excused herself. “I’m sleeping for two,” she said, touching her stomach, which looked pretty flat to me.
I stood up from my chair and held out my hand. “It was nice meeting you.”
Suddenly she threw her arms around me. “You too.”
I hugged her back, although it was a bit awkward. She was considerably shorter than Stella, and I sort of felt like a bear hugging a chipmunk.
She let go and moved around the table to hug and kiss her grandmother. “Night, Grams. Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome, darling.” Her grandmother got to her feet and yawned, too. “I’d best put myself to bed as well. Goodnight, lovebirds. See you tomorrow.” On her way to her bedroom, she turned off the lights, leaving us in the dark but for the candles on the table.
Stella and her sister exchanged an exasperated look, and a moment later, she and I were alone at the table.
“Your sister is nice,” I said, sitting again.
She nodded. “She is.”
“She’s getting married soon? And having a baby?”
“Yes.” Stella laughed gently. “The pregnancy was a bit of a surprise. She’s getting married in about a month. Due in March.”
I nodded, recalling her comment about feeling like a failure since her younger sisters were getting married before her, and how she definitely wanted a husband and kids. My life would have been so different if I’d met her years ago, like maybe after my first deployment. Would I have married her instead? Would I have done better? Would we have a family by now?
“At least I’ll be an aunt,” she said. There was hope in her voice, but sadness too, and she dropped her eyes to her hands, which were twisted together on the table.
I watched the candlelight play over her beautiful features and felt an ache deep in my chest. Regret that I couldn’t give her all she deserved. Anguish that soon she’d be out of my life, probably forever. And longing—fierce, uncontrollable longing to hold her in my arms and never let her go.
If I wanted to, I could flip the switch. Suppress it all and walk out of here alone. It was what I should do, for both of us.
But I didn’t want to. God help me, I didn’t want the ache to go away. It hurt, but it made me feel human again. Alive.
“You were quiet tonight,” she said without looking up.
“I’m always quiet, aren’t I?”
“Quieter than usual.”
“I’m sorry.”
She met my eyes. “Don’t be sorry. You never have to apologize to me for who you are. I was only worried that you were upset about something.”
“Nah. I was just thinking. And eating, of course.”
That made her smile a little. “What were you thinking about?”
“You.”
A pause. The candle wick flickered. “What about me?”
“How beautiful you are. How smart and sensitive. How confident and sexy.”
The smile widened, and she stared at her hands again, shaking her head. “Sounds like you’re describing someone else.”
“You don’t think you’re beautiful?”
“I don’t think I’m confident and sexy.”
“Come on. Is this the same girl who dropped to her knees behind the barn last night and nearly brought me to mine too?”
She lifted her shoulders. “But I’m only like that with you. No one else has ever made me … feel the things you do.” When she finally raised her eyes to mine, they were shining. “It scares me.”
I swallowed hard. “Why?”
You asshole. You know why.
“Because I’m falling for you, Ryan. I know it’s crazy, I know we just met, I know you don’t have feelings for me, but it’s the truth. And I—”
“Come with me.” Before I could stop myself, I’d grabbed her by the hand, blown out the candle, and was pulling her through the living room, out the front door, and across the lawn.
Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think, I told myself with every long stride, every thunderous beat of my heart. Just feel. For once, just let yourself fucking feel.
Up the porch steps. Into the house. Shut the front door.
As soon as it was closed, I pushed her back against it and crushed my mouth to hers, my body to hers, my soul to hers. I put my hands in her hair. I reached beneath her dress. I lifted her up so her legs wrapped around my waist and held her aloft, my fingers digging into her firm thighs.
“Emme, what the hell? You’re not dizzy?”
She flapped a hand in the air. “No. I made that up to get you alone.”
“You’re as bad as Grams!” I reached for the door handle. “Let me out so he’s not down there alone with her too long. She’ll eat him alive.”
“No!” She shoved my hand away. “Not until we talk.”
I crossed my arms. “About what?”
“About Mr. Biceps down there. Holy shit, his arms are the size of my neck.”
“Yes, he has a nice body.”
“A nice body?” Emme rolled her eyes. “Michelangelo’s David has a nice body. Ryan is ripped as fuck.”
I shrugged, although secretly I was pleased she thought he was hot. “Okay, he’s ripped.”
“And he likes you.” She looked at me shrewdly, her hands tucked behind her lower back. “I don’t know what kind of games he’s playing, but he likes you.”
“He’s not playing games! He’s the most honest man I’ve ever known.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Sorry. I know what he said to you, but I also know what I saw with my own eyes, and he is totally into you.”
I huffed, even though I wanted that to be the truth. “You’re crazy.”
“That’s debatable. But I’ve seen grooms look at their brides with less awe and affection than he looked at you with tonight.”
“I think he was looking at the meatloaf.”
“Then what are you still doing here, Stella?” She parked her hands on her hips.
“I’m being polite. Grams invited him to dinner without telling me.” It was kind of true, but Emme called bullshit.
“I don’t believe you.” She narrowed her eyes. “I know you. If you really believed there was no chance for you and this guy, I don’t think you’d still be here. You’re too practical.”
I gave in, dropping onto the bed. “I don’t know what to do. What he says is one thing. What I feel is another. And what he feels …” I toss up my hands. “Who knows? He claims to feel nothing.”
Emme sighs. “We should get back down there. But I get it, Stella. Now that I see him and you, I get it. Just … be careful. Okay?”
“I’ll try,” I said, unable to make any promises. Somehow I was no longer the girl who insisted on a seatbelt, wore the life vest, waited for the green signal.
I had no idea what I was doing, other than finally following my heart.
Twenty-Six
Ryan
During dinner, I’d missed a call from Mack. He hadn’t left a message.
I stepped out onto the porch and called him back, but it went to voicemail. “Hey, Mack, just saw that you called. Sorry I didn’t answer, I’m at dinner with Stella and her family, believe it or not. But I’ll leave my phone on.”
I hated to do that, knowing it would be rude to jump up and take a call during coffee and dessert, but something wasn’t right. I could feel it. I tried Bones again too, but he didn’t answer, and his voicemail box was full.
Back inside, I was distracted. The dessert was delicious and the coffee—with a shot of whiskey for everyone except Emme—tasted great. But I kept looking at my phone, and Stella sensed something was wrong.
“Everything okay?” she asked, catching me check the screen for the tenth time in ten minutes.
“Yeah.” I couldn’t get into it, but I felt bad when she dropped her gaze to her cup. She didn’t eat much dessert.
As for me, I cleaned my plate and had seconds. I’d learned to eat good food in any situation. You never knew when you’d be hungry again.
When the dessert plates had been cleared and the coffee pot emptied, Stella’s sister excused herself. “I’m sleeping for two,” she said, touching her stomach, which looked pretty flat to me.
I stood up from my chair and held out my hand. “It was nice meeting you.”
Suddenly she threw her arms around me. “You too.”
I hugged her back, although it was a bit awkward. She was considerably shorter than Stella, and I sort of felt like a bear hugging a chipmunk.
She let go and moved around the table to hug and kiss her grandmother. “Night, Grams. Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome, darling.” Her grandmother got to her feet and yawned, too. “I’d best put myself to bed as well. Goodnight, lovebirds. See you tomorrow.” On her way to her bedroom, she turned off the lights, leaving us in the dark but for the candles on the table.
Stella and her sister exchanged an exasperated look, and a moment later, she and I were alone at the table.
“Your sister is nice,” I said, sitting again.
She nodded. “She is.”
“She’s getting married soon? And having a baby?”
“Yes.” Stella laughed gently. “The pregnancy was a bit of a surprise. She’s getting married in about a month. Due in March.”
I nodded, recalling her comment about feeling like a failure since her younger sisters were getting married before her, and how she definitely wanted a husband and kids. My life would have been so different if I’d met her years ago, like maybe after my first deployment. Would I have married her instead? Would I have done better? Would we have a family by now?
“At least I’ll be an aunt,” she said. There was hope in her voice, but sadness too, and she dropped her eyes to her hands, which were twisted together on the table.
I watched the candlelight play over her beautiful features and felt an ache deep in my chest. Regret that I couldn’t give her all she deserved. Anguish that soon she’d be out of my life, probably forever. And longing—fierce, uncontrollable longing to hold her in my arms and never let her go.
If I wanted to, I could flip the switch. Suppress it all and walk out of here alone. It was what I should do, for both of us.
But I didn’t want to. God help me, I didn’t want the ache to go away. It hurt, but it made me feel human again. Alive.
“You were quiet tonight,” she said without looking up.
“I’m always quiet, aren’t I?”
“Quieter than usual.”
“I’m sorry.”
She met my eyes. “Don’t be sorry. You never have to apologize to me for who you are. I was only worried that you were upset about something.”
“Nah. I was just thinking. And eating, of course.”
That made her smile a little. “What were you thinking about?”
“You.”
A pause. The candle wick flickered. “What about me?”
“How beautiful you are. How smart and sensitive. How confident and sexy.”
The smile widened, and she stared at her hands again, shaking her head. “Sounds like you’re describing someone else.”
“You don’t think you’re beautiful?”
“I don’t think I’m confident and sexy.”
“Come on. Is this the same girl who dropped to her knees behind the barn last night and nearly brought me to mine too?”
She lifted her shoulders. “But I’m only like that with you. No one else has ever made me … feel the things you do.” When she finally raised her eyes to mine, they were shining. “It scares me.”
I swallowed hard. “Why?”
You asshole. You know why.
“Because I’m falling for you, Ryan. I know it’s crazy, I know we just met, I know you don’t have feelings for me, but it’s the truth. And I—”
“Come with me.” Before I could stop myself, I’d grabbed her by the hand, blown out the candle, and was pulling her through the living room, out the front door, and across the lawn.
Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think, I told myself with every long stride, every thunderous beat of my heart. Just feel. For once, just let yourself fucking feel.
Up the porch steps. Into the house. Shut the front door.
As soon as it was closed, I pushed her back against it and crushed my mouth to hers, my body to hers, my soul to hers. I put my hands in her hair. I reached beneath her dress. I lifted her up so her legs wrapped around my waist and held her aloft, my fingers digging into her firm thighs.
