“I can only imagine.” I start sweeping up. EJ crosses his arms and watches me, a warm smile on his face.
He’s given up asking if he can sweep for me after the first few times he offered.
I pop my broom into the dustpan handle and grab my purse.
“Need anything else?” I ask Laura.
“Get out of here,” she says. “I’ve got everything.”
EJ walks ahead of me, holding the door open.
Then he places his arm around my shoulders and escorts me to my car.
I almost tell him I’m thinking of setting up a time for us to meet with the boys after Bordeaux Days, but my tongue feels like lead.
We reach my car and I turn to him. “You don’t have to stop by every single night just to walk me to my car.”
“Are you telling me not to?” he asks.
“No.”
“Good, because it’s the bright spot in my day, Angie.” EJ picks up my hand and links my fingers with his. His next words stall out. “I … uh …”
He runs his free hand through his hair.
“What?”
“I miss you,” he says softly.
I run my thumb across the back of his hand. “That’s sweet.”
The hint of a shy grin tugs at his lips, making him look boyish and vulnerable.
We stare into one another’s eyes.
I lift my head to meet his gaze, and a warm flush rises across my cheeks. My voice cracks when I speak. “I miss you, too.”
His grin explodes into a full smile. His hand flies up to his chest. “Say it again.”
“No.” I laugh softly.
“Please?”
The urge to touch EJ—to be wrapped in his arms—overwhelms me.
I only hesitate for a moment and then I step toward him, placing my hand on his arm. “I miss you, too.”
His lips are on mine in a heartbeat, firm and insistent. My surprise is followed by a flood of relief at the contact, and then a wave of heat. My shoulders drop and I sag into his embrace, meeting his hunger with my own desire for him.
The realization settles over me. It’s never been like this before—a persistent longing that can only be satisfied when he’s near enough to touch me, this sense that he’s my person. Everything about EJ just fits.
I freeze for a beat. EJ notices and his kiss grows tender, less frenzied. His hands run gently down my arms, resting on my hips and ... What was I thinking about, anyway? His lips dance with mine and I forget where we are, looping my hand behind his neck and running my fingers through the short hairs—silken softness against warm skin.
He lets out a low rumbling sound and pulls back, glancing around.
My ragged breath fills the space between us. Can he hear my heartbeat?
“I lose my mind around you,” he says, pursing his lips in this adorable expression that’s half distraught, half amused. My forearm is still resting on his shoulder, my hand toying with his hair. I sigh, stepping back from him. “I’d better get home to the boys.”
