Lydia’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, probably shocked that she’d been asked to leave her own table. Jo bit back a laugh.
Walt pushed his chair back. “Come on, Lydia. I need a drink. Something harder than my daughter is serving.”
As soon as they left, Jo looked at the crush of people around them. “A moment alone?”
Avery sat up, reached for her hand, and pulled her toward him. “I don’t see anyone but you.”
Oh fuck, he was turning up the charm.
He kissed her fingers. “Answer my question, Jo.”
She shivered. “Because I would never subject you to my family. I don’t even like being around them.”
“I would have been your plus one if you’d asked.” He looked up, that crooked sexy grin plucking the invisible string between her nipples and clit. “And you wouldn’t have had to pay me.”
“Get a room.” Georgia slinked into the chair adjacent to Avery. “I swear, Jo, you’re always trying to hog the spotlight.”
“Ah, Georgia,” he said, shaking his head, his whiskey-smooth voice as intoxicating as ever, “Jo doesn’t need to stand in the spotlight. She is the spotlight.”
Avery unfolded that long, tall-drink-of-water body from the chair.
God, Jo was parched. It had been too long.
He stepped close, leaving only an inch of air between them. His hand hovered at her cheek. She held her breath, anticipating his touch, and would have closed her eyes, but his dark-as-sin gaze held her spellbound.
His jaw ticked. “I want you so fucking bad, right now.”
A whimper of need slipped past her lips before she could stop it.
With excruciating slowness, he slid his fingers into the hair at her nape and drew her onto her tiptoes. Her hands landed on his chest as lips like warm velvet caressed her mouth in a barely-there kiss. “Dance with me.”
She’d rather have more kisses. “Yes.”
Avery led her to the center of the dance floor and pressed in close, his body hot and hard against her, his arms wrapping around her, strong, possessive, bone-melting.
She’d been dead inside without him, and after only one second in his arms, she felt alive again, whole. But the explosive chemistry between them had never been the problem.
Shaking her head to clear it, she braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed. “Back it up, fuckboy.”
He leaned back to look at her. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed hearing that. How much I’ve missed your scent onmy skin.” Fingers splayed, his hands roamed over her back. “Touching you, tasting you, sliding my di—”
She shoved again. “I meant it. We need to talk.”
“I missed that, too.” But his expression sobered, and he loosened his hold. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Should we go somewhere more private?”
“No, I don’t trust myself alone with you.”
That lazy grin was back, but before he could pour on more of that smooth-talking, panty-stealing charm, she asked, “Avery, why aren’t you in Santorini? Why aren’t you on the beach with some bikini babe rubbing lotion on your…back?”
“Because I’m where I want to be, where I need to be, with the only woman I want. This week without you was the longest fucking week of my life, and I’m sorry it took me so long to figure out that I felt the same as you.”
“And how is that?”
“That I can’t breathe without you. That I need you in my life. That I want to beyourfuckboy, and only yours.”
She laughed around the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry I left. I should have stayed like you asked me to and given you the time you needed, but I was afraid that when you finally figured out what you wanted, it wouldn’t be me.”
“It’ll always be you, Jo. Always.”
