Page 59 of The Art of Falling in Love with Your Enemy
“No?”
“Oh, sorry.” Etta’s hands fly to her hair as she smoothes it. “I should have said no, thank you.”
“You don’t want the card?” I feel like one of those giant balloons in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Not the balloons at the start of the parade—the ones filled full to the brim with air. More like the balloons at the end of the parade, when they’re deflated and lying lifeless on empty city streets.
“It’s not that I don’t want it, it’s that I don’t need it.” Etta’s expression is peaceful and her eyes are sparkling. “Steve is gone, there is no more lawsuit, and he has transferred the funds I needed to open the business into my bank account as of this morning. So, no. I don’t need the baseball card.”
“That was my hail Mary moment, you know,” I manage sheepishly.
“It’s generous of you to offer that, but you don’t need a ‘hail Mary’ with me, Zac.” Etta’s eyes find mine as she stands on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “You’re forgiven.”
This woman. She is maddening, oh-so-baffling, and to boot, she’s forgiving. Forgiving me and standing here, in front of me, showing up. It’s at this moment I know for certain I am absolutely, unapologetically, one hundred percent head over heels for this woman.
Reaching out, I pull her closer, wanting to feel her in my arms. Etta threads her hands behind my neck as I lean down to rest the tip of my nose on hers. We breathe as one, our foreheads lightly touching.
Her fingers begin a little dance along my spine, causing a tremor across my flesh. Ever so slowly, I bring my mouth down and slant it across those amazingly luscious lips of hers. Her kiss tastes of jasmine and chewing gum, and the heady mixture is fast becoming my Kryptonite.
Her hand cups the back of my head, her fingers tugging on my hair. Gripping her waist, I pull her even tighter against me, never wanting this kiss to end. Not now, not tomorrow, not next week, not even in ten years’ time. Never ever.
When we finally untangle ourselves, Etta tilts her head back, and everything inside of me turns into gooey mush. My hands can’t stop moving along her arms, feeling the smoothness of her skin underneath my touch.
Pulling her close again, I nuzzle her neck.
“I’m in love with you,” I murmur. It’s my new hail Mary, because I do not want to lose this woman ever.
“Yeah?” Pulling back, Etta’s head tilts to the side, and she purses her lips in thought.
I pull her back to me, laughing. “Yes. I love you, Etta. I love you, I love those dogs, and I love it when we argue.”
Etta holds a finger in the air. “Debate. We don’t argue, we debate.”
“Fine,” I say with a grin. “I love debating with you. Satisfied?”
She nods, resting her head on my shoulder and sighing.
“I love you, too.”
The words are so softly spoken, I’m concerned I didn’t hear her right. “Did you just say that you love me?”
Her cheeks go bright crimson, but there’s no one around to see. “I do. And we know Thor loves you, so you just need to get Hercules on your side now. Canine companionship. It’s a real thing, you know.”
Laughing, I pull her close. “Oh, I know.”
Suddenly I’m hit with a lightning bolt kind of thought. It’s so good, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. Seriously! Now, where did I put that envelope?
Stepping away from Etta, I shove my hand into my pockets, relieved when I find the card right back inside my jacket. It’ll stay there for safekeeping for now.
“What are you doing?” she manages with a giggle.
“Making sure I have that baseball card, that’s what I’m doing.” I can’t resist snaking my arm around her waist and pulling her tight to my body one more time. “We—you and me—are going to donate the funds from the sale of this card to the canine program.”
Etta’s eyes almost pop out of her head. “We…what?”
“This card will give us enough money to get the program off the ground and then some. And since you don’t need the funds, then I can give it as a donation from us. But there will be a caveat.”
“Caveat?” Cracking up, Etta’s hands hold on to my elbows, her eyes pleading with me to go on. “What caveat could you have?”
“That they name the training grounds after your dogs. I’m thinking it’s a power statement. ‘Thercules Training Park.’ It’s got a nice ring to it, huh?”
