Page 27 of It's You
He tightened his arms around her. “No! No, I’m not shutting anything. I just?—”
“You just don’t want to kiss me.” She looked away from him, trying to back out of his arms. “Let go of me.” He didn’t. “Can you please let go of me, Jack?”
“No,” he murmured. “Look at me.”
She shook her head, looking down.
“I’m not letting you go until you look at me, Darcy.”
She lifted her head up to face him, eyes narrowed, grinding her jaw in frustration. The message in his eyes made her knees weak.
I want you so much. I’m in agony, Darcy.
As if to prove his point, he lowered his hands to her hips and pulled her closer so she could feel the unmistakable evidence of his erection against her belly. Her eyes widened, but remained fixed on his. His voice in her head was ragged and gruff.
But we’re on Main Street in the middle of broad daylight, and once we start, I don’t know if I can stop.
His nostrils flared with the force of his breathing, and his eyes were churning with fire. Darcy’s legs turned to jelly, but his muscular arms held her tightly against him.
She licked her dry lips, and his eyes dropped to her mouth, staring, transfixed. She knew he was telling the truth. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“I’m okay now.” She breathed, planting her feet firmly and pulling away from him. She felt his arms reluctantly loosen, and she took a step back from him, smoothing her cardigan. “Thanks for not letting me fall. I owe you one.”
He traded her lips for her eyes.
Do you mean that? You owe me one?
What’d you have in mind?
Dinner at my place. Tomorrow night.
Darcy took a deep breath, then nodded. She hitched her bag up on her shoulder and ran a hand through her long strawberry-blonde hair before turning to go.
“Fair warning,” she said, turning back to him as she walked toward the parking area where her car waited. “I have a lot of questions.”
“Fair warning,” he answered, his eyes sweeping up and down her body slowly before meeting hers.We won’t be on Main Street anymore.
And then he turned and walked away from her, leaving her staring at his perfect backside in retreat with her mouth hanging open.
Since her fatherpassed away ten years ago, Darcy’s mother, Cassie, hosted a family dinner every Thursday evening and expected all of her “ducklings” to attend. This tradition included Darcy, Amory, and Willow, who had been, more or less, adopted by the Turners decades ago.
Willow’s parents separated the week after her eighth birthday, and her family, once happily situated in Carlisle, had imploded. Her father had relocated to his hometown of Montréal, while her mother returned to New York. But while Joanna Faulk Broussard longed for the bright lights of the big city, she wanted her daughter, Willow, to have an all-American childhood safely ensconced in her own hometown, Carlisle. So Willow had grown up under the less-than-watchful eyes of her aging maternal grandparents, with only occasional visits from her very busy, profoundly unmaternal mother. And every summer was spent with her paternal grandmother, herNohkom, in Quebec City, where she avoided her father’s awkward attempts to connect with her, eschewing his casual interest inher life, and choosing to immerse herself in her grandmother’s Métis culture instead.
This arrangement left Willow somewhat lacking in stable family life, which the Turners were more than happy to provide as much as possible. And after the passing of Willow’s elderly grandparents, leaving Willow the house that she shared with Darcy, Cassie Turner welcomed her, even expected her, every Thursday evening for family dinner.
Darcy and Willow arrived first and were chatting with Cassie about Amory’s surprise guest.
“So what do we know about her?” asked Darcy from her perch beside Willow on the kitchen counter.
“Not much, duckling,” answered her mother. “He didn’t bring her to Honoria’s affair on Saturday, but when he asked if he could bring her tonight, I said yes. That’s all I know.”
Darcy turned to Willow. “You spent some time with Amory at the wedding. Did he mention he was dating someone new?”
Willow shook her head no, but Darcy noticed that she flinched and seemed to brace herself when they heard the front door open a second later. Anyone else would have missed it, but Darcy knew Willow. She watched as Willow’s lips tightened to a thin white line, her arms crossing over her chest after she hopped off the counter.
Suddenly, Amory was taking up the entirety of the doorway between the kitchen and the front room with his huge contractor’s body, tousled ginger-colored hair, and goofy grin. Darcy watched as he found Willow’s eyes first.
“Hey, Will,” he said softly, acknowledging her with a nod.
