Brown-Eyed Girl Page 58
Call me or the camera gets it.
“Happen to know anything about this?” he asked.
“I might.” As I stared into his dark eyes, I saw to my relief that he wasn’t angry. In fact, I got the impression that he was considerably entertained.
“This was an inside job,” Joe said. “Jack has a key to my place, but he knows better. So it had to be Ella who helped you.”
“I admit nothing.” I opened the door fully. “Would you like to come in for a glass of wine?”
Joe was about to reply, but his gaze had flickered to the valley of my cleavage and my half-exposed breasts, and then he couldn’t seem to look away.
“Wine?” I prompted.
Joe blinked and forced his gaze back up to my face. He had to clear his throat before replying. “Please.”
Coco trotted back to the sofa as Joe and I went to the kitchen.
“You were expecting company?” Joe asked, seeing the extra wineglass waiting beside the open bottle.
“One never knows.”
“One knows the chances are pretty high when a three-thousand-dollar Nikon is missing.”
“It’s safe.” I poured some chilled pinot grigio and gave it to him.
Joe took a swallow, the crystal stem of the wineglass glimmering in his strong fingers.
Being with him again, having him within arm’s reach, filled me with an emotion bordering on exhilaration. For me, happiness was as elusive and fragile as one of those balloons Eli had once brought Sofia. At the moment, however, it seemed to have been woven all through me, stitched deep in my bones and muscles, enriching my blood.
“I hope I’m not making you late for your event,” I said.
“It was canceled.”
“When?”
A smile touched his lips. “About a minute and a half ago.” He set aside his wine, then took off his jacket and draped it over the backrest of a bar stool. Next the shirt cuffs were unbuttoned and rolled up twice, revealing forearms dusted with dark hair. Excited flutters awakened in my stomach as he proceeded to remove his tie.
After unfastening his top shirt button, Joe picked up his wineglass and gave me a level glance. “I haven’t called because I’ve been trying to give you space.”
I tried to sound injured. “There’s a difference between giving someone space and ignoring them.”
“Honey, I’m not ignoring you, I’m trying not to act like a stalker.”
“Why didn’t you kiss me after we went out the other day?”
The creases at the outer corners of his eyes deepened. “Because I knew that if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. You may have noticed that I have trouble putting on the brakes with you.” He stood and took hold of the sides of my chair, effectively caging me. “Now that you’ve taken my camera hostage… what kind of ransom are we talking about?”
I had to work up my nerve before replying. “I think we should negotiate upstairs. In my bedroom.”
Joe contemplated me for a long moment before shaking his head. “Avery… when it happens, I’m going to want things that are hard for you to give. It’ll be different from the first time. And I can’t take the chance that you’re not ready.”
I rested my hands on his forearms, taut with corded strength. “I’ve missed you,” I said. “I missed talking to you at night and hearing about your day, and telling you about mine. I’ve even been dreaming about you. Since you’re already occupying some of my head space, we might as well sleep together.”
Joe was very still, his gaze locked on my reddening face. By now he knew how difficult it was for me to admit how I felt.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” I continued, “but I know that I trust you. And I know that I want to wake up with a man in my bed tomorrow morning. Specifically you. So if you —”
Before I could finish, Joe leaned forward and kissed me. My fingers tightened on his arms in a bid for balance. I took an extra breath, another, my lungs striving amid a storm of heartbeats. The kiss turned stronger, more voracious, his mouth opening mine. Without breaking the kiss, he pulled me from the chair and pinned me against the counter, as if I needed to be held in place, restrained, and the hint of male aggression was wildly exciting.
“Joe,” I panted when his mouth slid to my throat, “I… I have a big bed upstairs, covered with… Italian linens and a hand-quilted silk cover… and feather and down pillows…”
Joe drew his head back to look at me, a dance of laughter in his eyes. “You don’t have to sell me on the bed, honey.”
He paused at the sound of a phone emanating from his discarded jacket. “Sorry,” he said, reaching for the garment. “I only get this ringtone when it’s family.” He began to hunt through the pockets.
“Of course.”
He pulled out the phone and looked at his text messages. “Christ,” he said, his expression changing.
Something bad had happened.
“Haven’s in the hospital,” he said. “I have to go.”
“I’m coming too,” I said instantly.
Joe shook his head. “You don’t have to —”
“Wait two minutes,” I said, already running to the stairs. “I’ll put on a shirt and some jeans. Don’t leave without me.”
Seventeen
It occurred to me on the way to the hospital that I might have been too pushy, insisting on accompanying Joe. Whatever was wrong with Haven, it was a family matter, and they might not appreciate having an outsider there. On the other hand, I wanted to help in any way possible. And more important, I wanted to be there for Joe. Having gained some understanding of how much the Travises meant to one another, I knew it would devastate him if anything happened to his sister.
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