Page 79 of Always Be an Us

Emma

I freeze at Declan's question, feeling caught and cut open, like my most vulnerable parts have been exposed. Biting my lips, I immediately tear my eyes away from his.

I don’t know what to say in response, or how to control my reaction. I try to laugh it off, although the laugh sounds forced and piercing to my ears.

"Of course, I do," I say, waving my hands. "I want to go home. I just realized that...you know, you might have to help Amelia unpack later. So I wanted to lighten your load a little. Plus, it's still early. If you want some dessert, I know an ice cream place around the corner from here. Or I can show you where to get dinner later if Amelia wakes up."

"Ah." He nods and a little smile appears at the corner of his lips. "So you're trying to ask me out on a date? Is that it?"

"No," I shake my head, my laugh even more forced and high-pitched.

He takes a few steps to me, shaking his head as he tucks his index finger under my chin, moving it up until our eyes lock.

In the dim orange lighting of the living room, his pupils look like inky wells rimmed by an odd color I can never put my finger on. And I think they’re flecks of gold in there too. I don’t know why I never realized that before.

Nor did I realize just how angular his cheekbones were, how plump those lips were, surrounded by that beard.

Greek God doesn't even fully describe it.

His face is a work of art.

"Are you drooling?"

His gentle question has me catching myself and my face flushes when I realize that there really is moisture on the corner of my lips.

Damn.

How embarrassing.

I try to back away and wipe it, but he prevents it with an arm around my waist before he leans in to lick the corner of my lips.

"No. I like it," he murmurs as he backs away. Even that quick touch scrambles my senses. "You make me drool too."

"Um…"Now what on earth do I say to that?There’s nothing to say. I can only blink at him and stare into his eyes like a lovesick puppy. Which I’m doing again. Damn.

One hand comes up and caresses my cheek, and my stomach does flip-flops again. With desire, yes, but also something softer, gentler, and all the more scary.

His actions are tripping me up. The hot sex, I understand, but the tenderness of his gaze, I don’t know where that comes from or what that means.

And I don’t want to read too much into it,can’tread too much into it.

The last time I thought a man had feelings for me…it didn’t turn out too well.

And as Grandpa says, "Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice..."

"Are you ready to be honest with me now?"

I'm so lost in his eyes that I don’t even know what he’s talking about. "Honest?"

"About the real reason you don’t want to go back home?"

I jerk suddenly, recalling and attempting to back away, but his arms don’t leave my waist, and he continues his gentle caresses as if trying to soothe my jumpiness.

"It’s okay," he murmurs as he stares down at me. "You can tell me. I won’t judge you."

I shake my head, staring at his collarbone, telling myself I'm not scared of his judgment. Except I am, and if he knew the whole story he would definitely judge me.

"It’s difficult being at home alone, isn’t it?" he says, hitting the nail right on the head. A glance exposes the knowing look in his gaze, even as I stubbornly refuse to meet his eyes after it. No matter which way he steers my head, I turn my eyeballs to avoid looking into his.

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