Page 93 of Crossroads of Love

He moves forward to kiss me, but I turn away playfully, hiding my grin as I head back into the kitchen. “I opened a bottle of red already, but I’ll put this one aside for later. Everything’s almost ready.”

He follows me in. He steps up behind me, close enough that I can feel the heat of his body, but he doesn’t touch me. Not yet. He’s teasing the line between casual and intimate, keeping me on my toes.

“What’s for dinner?” he asks, peering over my shoulder as I check the sauce one last time. His voice is low, a little too close to my ear, and I have to fight the urge to lean back into him.

“Fettuccine with chicken,” I reply, trying to sound casual. “And garlic bread. I know how much you like carbs.”

“I do,” he murmurs, his breath brushing against the back of my neck. “But I think I like you more.”

I roll my eyes even though my pulse quickens. “Stop flirting with me and set the table outside, would you?”

He chuckles, moving away to grab the plates and silverware. “As you wish.”

I take a deep breath, steadying myself as I plate the pasta, swirling the fettuccine into neat little nests and topping it with the sauce and chicken. When everything is ready, I bring the plates outside, where Gavin has already set up the table on the deck. The sky is painted with shades of pink and orange as the sun dips lower on the horizon, and there’s a gentle breeze. It’s perfect.

We sit down across from each other, and he immediately dives into the pasta, groaning in appreciation after the first bite.

“This is amazing,” he says around a mouthful of food, his eyes closing in bliss. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

I laugh, shaking my head as I pick at my own plate. “You say that every time I cook.”

“That’s because it’s always true.”

We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the sound of a car in the distance and the occasional bird overhead filling the air. The sun continues to sink lower, and I find myself sneaking glances at Gavin as he eats, watching the way the light catches on his features. He’s beautiful in that rugged, effortless way that drives me crazy.

He may look exactly the same, but he’s matured on the inside so much since college. It’s like he’s a different man.

“What was so stressful about today?”

“I don’t necessarily think today was different from any other day.” I shrug, looking away quickly. “But…I think it just feels like everything has piled on top of me at once. All this stuff with Aaron and…it’s a lot. I haven’t been dealing with it, and it’s trying to make me.”

“It’s a lot to deal with for sure,” he says after a while, setting down his fork and leaning back in his chair.

“I’m glad I get to spend some time with you,” I say finally, my voice softer than I intended. “Just the two of us.”

Gavin’s smile fades slightly, replaced by something more serious, more intense. He leans forward, resting his arms on the table, his eyes locked on mine.

“And what do you want to do with that time, Lena?”

There’s a challenge in his voice, a heat that makes my skin tingle. My heart races as I hold his gaze, refusing to back down.

I love it when he does this, when he turns into this dominant man who pushes me out of my comfort zone. He knows how reserved I usually am, but he has this way of pulling the soft, naughty girl out of me.

“I think you know,” I whisper.

Neither of us moves. I can feel my chest tighten, and my brain starts throwing intrusive thoughts out, making me second-guess the admission.

The air between us crackles with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy. Then, slowly, he reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against mine. The touch is light, almost tentative, but it sends a jolt of electricity through me, and I can’t stop the small gasp that escapes my lips.

His thumb traces the back of my hand. I can feel the heat of his skin, the strength in his fingers, and it’s like every nerve in my body is suddenly on high alert. I can’t look away from him or breathe as I get lost in his gorgeous pale blue eyes.

“I was hoping you brought me here to seduce me,” he murmurs, trying to make a joke, but his voice is rough around the edges like he’s been holding back for too long.

He stands, his hand still holding mine as he gently pulls me to my feet. The world seems to tilt as I rise, and suddenly, we’re standing toe-to-toe, the sunset casting long shadows across the deck. The only sounds are the distant car passing by and our own breathing.

His hand moves to my waist, resting lightly at first, then tightening as he pulls me closer. I can feel the heat of his body,the way his chest rises and falls against mine. His other hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing my lower lip, and my knees almost buckle from the sheer intensity of it all.

“Lena,” he says softly, his forehead resting against mine, his breath mingling with mine. “I’ve been giving you space, and…I need you to know I don’t want to hold back anymore.”

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