Page 21 of Tangled with the Tight End

With every step, I feel her presence–the graceful way she holds herself, the soft curves of her breasts as they lift and fall when she breathes, and the way her hips sway when she walks ahead of us.

“Later, Beth.” She beams at her friend, who we met on the way in.

“Bye, Norah.” The blonde woman smiles and waves. “Gabriel, you’ve got an adorable kid. Not only is he cute, but he’s also well-behaved.”

“Thanks.” That has nothing to do with me. He sighs and snuggles closer. Or maybe it does. For some reason, I don’t think Sloane watched him much while she was with Finn since he doesn’t like kids.

Once we’re outside, we walk in silence for several steps. “Do you want to take him back to the lodge?” She stops in mid-step. “We can go back and visit Read Between the Wines anothertime. I mean, you can go there with Marco and Eden sometime if you want.”

As Gino’s weight shifts against me, I shake my head. “No, I want to go.”

The desire to spend more time with her overwhelms me. It’s not just anyone–it is her. I’ve been around countless beautiful women in my life, but no one tugs at me like she does. What is it? Why am I attracted to her when there’s no point? She belongs here, and I have a team to get back to. But it doesn’t seem to matter, I can’t push these feelings away. I’ve been trying.

“Good.” Her mouth widens into a smile. “I think you’ll like it. They have books, wine, a seating area, and a section for kids to read books and do activities. I think Gino will like it when he wakes up.”

Ten minutes later, we’re seated on a sofa drinking glasses of sweet red wine as Gino lays along the edge of the cushion, pushing me closer to Norah, who’s seated sideways facing me and waves a golden blonde-haired woman over to us. She’s wearing a light blue sweater with a pink skirt.

“Gabriel, this is Ruby Olsen, the owner. Ruby, this is Gabriel, Marco’s brother.”

“Ah…. It’s nice to meet you.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You have a nice setup here.”

“Thank you.” She beams. “This place is my pride and joy. I always love seeing new customers giving us a shot. And our little slice of heaven can always use some new blood.”

“I’m only here for the holidays.”

“We’ll see.” She winks and takes a step back. “We tend to grow on people.”

Once she’s gone, Norah arches an eyebrow. “So, what do you really think?”

“It’s nice. I’ve seen places like this in the city. Actually….”

She arches an eyebrow. “You didn’t think we were sophisticated enough to pull it off?”

“I didn’t say that, but I’m surprised by the conveniences here. I saw some white truffles at the market yesterday.” I lay my arm along the edge of the cushion and angle my knee toward her.

The pull to get to know her better crashes down on me in a wave. To explain my past. To stay close to her. She’s attractive, but it’s more than that. She’s smart and different from the women I typically run into. She’s not obsessed with her looks. But she’s beautiful with or without make-up. She’s not looking for a hook-up with a player just to tell her friends about it. She’s wholesome. The kind of girl I wanted to settle down with when my football career was over.

But it’s not over. I should get up and leave because leading her on is irresponsible, making me no better than my ex.

Her eyes twinkle. “So, we’re not as backward as you thought?”

“This place is nicer than any other bookstore I’ve been inside. I also haven’t heard any strange banjo music when I’m driving around the corner on my way to the lodge.”

Her laughter curls my gut. “Funny, neither have I.”

“Thank you for giving me a chance. I know I was an ass when we first met, and you were under no obligation to be nice to me afterward.”

She takes a sip of wine. “What about my best friend being married to your brother?”

“Fine. You have an obligation.” That realization does nothing to make me feel better. I don’t want her to only hang out with me because of them. Or to be nice to me for them. I want her to feel the same magnetic pull to be with me, that’s getting stronger for me every time I see her.

“I’m teasing.” She sits down her drink on the coffee table and swats my arm. “Once you get past the asshole layer, you’re not half bad.”

“Thanks.” I grab her hand and squeeze it, letting it go before it feels awkward or forward.

But the quick inhalation of her breath causes my body to tighten. Keep the conversation going. Keep it light. She gnaws on her bottom lip.

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