It’s a diversion of course.
Because I know exactly what she means.
She forks another bite of cake, then continues.
“Well, you look like you’re about to take someone’s head off.”
She sounds amused.
God help me, I love that she’s not intimidated.
“Sorry,” I murmur.“I was just thinking how these things always end with a rather rambunctious conversation.”
She waits for more.
I don’t give it.
What am I supposed to say?
Don’t mind me, Kelly.
I’m just feeling exceptionally territorial because you look like a goddamn fantasy and I still don’t know if you’re going to walk out of here with me or away from me.
I’ve waited too long for this opportunity with this woman, and there’s just no denying how anxious I am.
Plus, there’s the obvious.
One, Kelly is single now.
Two, she is one damn fine-looking woman.
Three, others are taking note—and I don’t take kindly to competition though I’m confident I’ll win her in the end.I want her too badly to do anything but.
My gaze rakes over her, and I swear my heart squeezes so tight I think I might be having a heart attack.
She’s answering something the older woman sitting beside her asks—I don’t know what exactly because I’m not listening.
I’m too busy staring.Cataloging all the things that fascinate me about her.
Kelly’s skin has that honeyed glow I’ve always associated with her—warm, sun kissed, perfect.
Her blonde hair is down tonight, styled in long, loose waves that make my fingers itch.
She’s wearing makeup—something smoky and dangerous around her beautiful blue eyes.
Makes them look deeper.Bigger.Sexier.
And that dress.
That fucking dress.
It hugs every curve.
The dip of her waist.
The roundness of her hips.
The generous swell of her breasts.
