Page 6 of When Love Is Unexpected

"Ooh, a wedding," she says. "That sounds fun."

"It would be fun," I say, "If I were married or, at the very least, in a committed relationship. After my sister gets married, I'll be the only member of the family who's still single. They've hounded me for years about not having someone special in my life."

"It can't be that bad," she says.

"Explaining myself is exhausting."

"I'm sorry," she says. "Yeah, the pressure would grind on my last nerve."

"Oh, it does," I say.

"How long will you be in the States?"

"About two months," I say," I have my high school reunion, and my grandparents are celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary next month."

"You're going to be busy," she says, straightening on the couch so she can look directly at me. Her eyes take my breath away.

"How are things going with Eric?" I ask.

"That's over," she says. "We broke up yesterday."

"You've broken up in the past, only to get back together days later."

"This time, it's for good. We both know it's over."

"I'm sorry," I say.

"Don't be," she says. "I wish I'd done it sooner. I have a career path to focus on, and I'm not the most available girlfriend or friend, for that matter."

"You and I never had a problem finding time to get together," I say.

"That's different," she says, smiling. "You were never a demanding, needy, insecure boyfriend. You didn't get your feelings hurt if I had to study and couldn't go out."

I was always disappointed when I couldn't see her. She just never knew it.

She has freckles dotting her perfect nose and flawless skin. Her eyelashes are long and thick. Her lips are pink and full, with a sexy cupid's bow that begs to be kissed. Her smile is white and perfectly straight. I've seen all the pictures adorning the walls in her house, so I know she wore braces for two years. Well worth it if you ask me. She has an athletic body. Her legs are strong and beautiful. She has a tiny birthmark on her right shoulder—something else that begs to be kissed. I can't help but wonder how many times Eric kissed her there.

"What are you thinking?" she asks.

"I'm thinking about how beautiful you are and how much I missed your face."

"You sound so poetic," she says.

"Your beauty is a poem worth writing," I say.

She smiles and looks away. No one would ever know this about Laila Linder, but I know. She's shy.

"So, what should we do today?" she asks. "I still have some packing to finish up. If you help me, we can be done in an hour. After that, I'm all yours."

"I'd like to swing by the studio this afternoon. Do you want to go with me?"

"Yes," she says, smiling. "I'll go anywhere with you."

"I'm all yours," and "I'll go anywhere with you." An image of us holding hands and walking along a sandy beach in San Diego crosses my mind and takes root in my heart.

"Anywhere?" I ask.

"Well," she says, raising an eyebrow and giving me one of her staple mischievous grins, "what exactly do you have in mind, Mr. Jameson?"

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