Page 53 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Literally.

Weird. I need to visit my physician.

He swallowed heavily, trying to maintain the calm and collected facade of a businessman rather than the anxious man he felt like. As he helped Allison out of her car, his knees almost buckled.

Not because of her weight—God, no. The woman was light as a feather. He vividly remembered how effortlessly he had picked her up and thrown her around during their one night together, but now, seeing her in this moment, he was rendered speechless.

She wore a form-fitting, baby pink sweater dress that clung to her in all the right places, falling just below her knees. The dress’s mock neck framed her slender neck, and long sleeves shielded her arms from the cool air. Her hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, and her face, though seemingly natural, was subtly enhanced by the lightest touch of makeup that made her jade eyes even more striking.

But it wasn’t just her beauty that caught his attention. No, it was the fact that she was showing.

At thirteen weeks pregnant, the bump wasn’t large or particularly noticeable—more like she was slightly bloated. But to Angelo, it was the most profound sight in the world. His baby was in there, growing—safe, warm, and happy. And he could finallyseeit.

He must have stared too long because Allison chuckled, snapping him out of his reverie. “It’s really cute, isn’t it?”

Angelo nodded once, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight in front of him. She understood, though, because she laughed softly, a sound that reminded him of delicate bells ringing—a sound he hadn’t realized he missed so much until now.

When Allison turned to reach for something inside her car, Angelo had to physically force himself to let go of her. She leaned over the slightest bit, giving him the perfect view of herincredible behind. Angelo averted his gaze, but only after staring at the delicious woman in front of him for a few more seconds.

His hand flexed instinctively, the tension in his body evident. He wasn’t used to hand-holding. It wasn’t something he avoided necessarily, but he had never felt the desire to hold a woman’s hands in his. He’d never experienced that obsession most men his age claimed they’d felt at least once in their life, that all-consuming need to hold a woman close.

But now, he understood it all.

Holding on to Allison’s small, soft hand felt oddly comforting. It reminded him of a hot bath after a long, cold, tiring day. Of nights under a sky full of stars. Of warmth and comfort. Of belonging.

Holding on to Allison’s hand felt like coming home.

Angelo wanted to grab her again, to pull her close and never let go. He didn’t want to lose this feeling, this sense of belonging that he’d only ever heard of. He wanted more. He wanted all of it.

She’ll be mine. I’ll make sure of it.

Mind made up, Angelo glanced up and found himself looking into Allison’s eyes. Her breath hitched, and his own grew quicker. His hands came up, teasingly brushing against her sides as one palm found its place on her waist. The other hand kept traveling upwards until it reached the top of her car and held on, effectively caging her in.

“Angelo?” she spoke softly, her voice tinged with something he couldn’t quite place.

God, I love it when she says my name.

He only hummed in response, too enchanted by the woman in front of him to reply. He leaned in, his body still not touching hers but inching closer. He could smell her distinctive scent of honey and lavender, and he made a mental note to find someone to bottle it up for him.

Just for me.

And then I’ll kill whoever makes it because nobody else can ever know her scent.

Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, gripping him gently. He was acutely aware of every breath she took, every flutter of her eyelashes, every movement of her gaze around his face. He knew she’d stop him if she wanted to. And if she did, he would back off the second she requested it.

But she didn’t.

“What are you doing to me, sweet girl?” Angelo finally murmured. He hadn’t meant to voice the thought, but he didn’t care. It was a genuine question, born of the bewildering feelings overwhelming him. He had never experienced anything like this before—such intense desire, an inexplicable need to touch, to feel, tobewith her. He was losing his grip, teetering on the edge of madness as his control slowly slipped away.

He needed her like his next breath, the urge to kiss her overwhelming every other thought.

Allison didn’t answer his question. Instead, she made a tiny sound, something akin to a whimper that stopped Angelo’s breathing for several long seconds as he felt his slacks tighten significantly.

He moved closer, his erection pressing against her thigh and his heart raced as he felt her respond, leaning into him ever so slightly.

“Feel what you do to me, Allison. The effect your proximity has on me,” he whispered against the shell of her ear and she blushed, gripping him tighter but she didn’t move away.

They were a breath apart now. The slightest movement and they’d be kissing. He’d finally get to feel those lips he’d missed so much. It had been too long since that night, and he needed another taste, like an addict searching for his next hit.

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