Page 17 of The Widower's Girlfriend
“There you are, love. Let’s get some food, huh?” He walks with me in the direction of the restaurant, but not before I look behind me and give the death glare to my ex-friends. Amy looks bored, Justine is still giggling, and Diana looks shocked by the turn of events. At least one of them gets the gravity of the situation.
Walker tugs on my arm and spins me around so I can’t see them any longer. Then a warm hand is cupping my face. Before I can bank the fire that still rages, his lips are on mine, the anger quickly turning to passion.
His teeth nip at my bottom lip, demanding my attention though it’s already his. My hands find purchase on the sides of his suit jacket, pulling him into me and hanging on for the ride. His palm tilts my head to the side and he dives in, consuming me with a kiss far more intense than last night, yet every bit as delicious.
11
Walker
The fire in her eyes, the fierceness in her gait, and that lush bottom lip are too much for a mere mortal like me. Before she can light into her so-called friends, I grab her hand and march her away. And I know she thinks I’m only kissing her to give her friends a show, that’s not at all what’s going on here.
I can’t keep my hands off her. Can’t deny that I’m attracted to her, that she means something to me, that the heart once crushed is now beating again. For her.
So I take advantage of the situation and kiss her the way I never knew I’d want to again. She melts into me, that steel spine bending for me, a surrender I don’t take lightly. I’m so damn lucky she gave me another chance after I treated her as badly as her friends over there.
Then my brain takes a back seat and all I know is this woman in my arms and her taste on my lips. A loudly clearing throat directly behind me is the only thing to pierce this fog around us.
With regret pulsing through every cell of my body, I pull away and stare into her hooded eyes. Satisfaction swoops through, seeing her eyes unfocused and soft.
“Excuse me, did you want a table?” A woman’s voice from behind me forces my gaze to leave the heaven before me and see where we are, which is apparently the hostess station in front of the steak house.
“Um...” I look back at Jemma, her cheeks pink, eyes still hazy, and the last thing I want to do is be a table away from her with constant interruptions by a well-meaning server. “No. Thank you.”
I slip my hand into hers again, tipping my head to the door off to the side, leading to what looks like an outside area. She gives me a sweet smile in response and I take that as permission, walking quickly to escape this hotel and everyone in it. I just need time alone with Jemma to explain my behavior, beg her forgiveness, and hope she’s on the same page as I am. There’s nothing fake about this relationship any longer.
The door clangs shut behind us and the quiet is a breath of fresh air. Jemma leans against the wall like her knees aren’t holding her upright as they should. Her hair is tousled from my hand raking through it. Clenching my fists, I promise myself more kisses later if I can just say the things that need to be said.
“Jemma.” Her gaze meets mine and I wonder if I could just stare at her forever, staying lost in her blue eyes. I clear my throat and begin again. “I’m so sorry for walking away from you last night. Dinner was incredible and leaving you was the last thing I wanted to do. But, truth be told, I freaked out. I saw some attendees from the conference outside the hotel and I felt like I couldn’t be seen with you.”
She frowns, but nods her head at me to continue.
“You see, I’ve created an entire brand around the fact that I’m a widower. It started out with my blog, where I poured my heart out online as it was breaking. Then came the book deal. And then the speaking gigs. People going through hard times look up to me as someone who understands them and can help them through it. If suddenly I’m gallivanting around with a beautiful woman looking like the happiest man alive, how does that affect them?”
I let the question hang in the air between us, because frankly, I don’t have the answer to that. How can I bridge that gap and keep my followers with me? How can I show them happiness is possible in their future too without alienating them during their darkest hour?
“I guess I didn’t realize you had this following you speak of. We really just met a little over a day ago. There’s so much we don’t know about each other.” Jemma puts her hand on my arm and I know any backlash is worth a chance with her.
“I thought my ability to open myself to a relationship had died with my wife. And then I saw you and your hideous suitcase dragging through LAX.”
She huffs out a laugh. I smile right back. “What I’m saying is that I’m into you, Jemma. I don’t want to pretend to be your boyfriend to get your friends off your back. I don’t want to hide you away so my audience is placated. I want to date you for real. I want to know what makes you laugh so hard tears stream down your cheeks. I want to know your deepest fears and celebrate your every success. I want to debate the downfalls of entitlement and snap judgements and all manner of topics with you. Please tell me you feel the same way?”
I’m gulping for breath when I get done. Who needs air when you’re begging for a woman to give you a second chance?
Her grip on my forearm tightens, and a hesitant smile graces her face. “I don’t know how any woman could say no to that speech, Walker. You really are a good speaker, aren’t you?”
I bark out a laugh and then sober quickly. “My feelings for you are not fake, and that speech was not rehearsed. I promise you.”
She nods. “I believe you. I won’t lie to you and say there aren’t genuine feelings on my end.” Her gaze darts away and then comes back to me. “But I can also tell you that I’m smart enough to be cautious. I’ve let people treat me badly before and I’ve recently had my eyes opened to not putting up with that.” She squeezes my arm again, her implication clear. “So, let’s go slow and see. Okay?”
I take a step closer, her bright blouse blowing gently against me in the evening breeze. Still not close enough. “May I?”
Her eyes sparkle up at me, her head tilted back. “Oh, we’re asking now, huh?”
“It’s our first kiss, so yeah, I’m asking permission.”
A line forms between her eyebrows. “Um, first kiss? Pretty sure we’ve had a couple already.”
I shake my head, getting closer. So close I can see the light freckles across her nose that makeup can’t hide. I push a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Nope. Those were with an audience, when we still said we were faking this relationship. This, right now, is our first kiss.”
