Hold On (Play On #2.5)(13)

“If it was up to me I’d take you to dinner in town but I thought you’d feel more relaxed if we stayed somewhere familiar tonight.”

“I do, thank you.”

He smiled and then his gaze dropped to my shoes before returning to my face. He grinned. “Never dated a woman on my eye level before.”

“Well, I’m wearing five-inch heels.”

“I noticed. They’re sexy as fuck.”

Our eyes held for what felt like forever and he squeezed my hand. I blinked and jerked my gaze away, trying to catch my breath.

“So what height does that make you out of heels?” he suddenly asked.

“Five nine. What height are you?”

“Six three.”

“Tall,” I muttered, trying not to imagine that long, hard body of his covering me in bed …and epically failing.

His warm hand tightened in mine as if he could read my expression. “I promised myself I’d be a gentleman tonight and that’s going to be hard to do when you’ve got me thinking about how long your legs are and how amazing they’ll feel wrapped around me… so maybe we should stop talking about this.”

I had to curb nervous laughter because I had a feeling it wasn’t going to take much to lead either of our thoughts into the bedroom. “Sounds like a plan,” I choked out.

We reached the restaurant in no time (thank goodness) and the hostess, who was as familiar with Gray as everyone else at the lodge appeared to be, led us directly to a table by the massive picture window at the back of the room. The sun had already set but from our table we could see part of the valley where the town was lit up in the dark. It was beautiful.

We ordered our drinks and I dragged my gaze from the view to Gray to find him studying me thoughtfully.

I pressed a hand to my cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s just hard to want to look anywhere but at you.”

The compliment caused a small bark of incredulous laughter. “I don’t know whether you’re feeding me lines or if you’re being genuine. Unbelievably, I think you’re being genuine.”

Gray scowled. “I already told you I’m not feeding you a line and I thought after our kiss today you understood where we’re at.”

“Our kiss?”

His eyes narrowed. “You can’t deny the chemistry between us, angel.”

“I’m not trying to.” I sighed and it sounded shaky. “I’m sorry. I’m… I’m not used to men complimenting me just because they want to and not because they’re hoping it will lead somewhere.”

Understanding crossed his expression. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

Needing the conversation to turn to something I could deal with, I gestured toward the town. “So you grew up in Cunningham Falls?”

“Yeah. My family has lived there for generations.”

“Big family?”

“Pretty big. Immediate family it’s only my parents and my brother Noah. But we have cousins and aunts and uncles who have lived here for generations, too, so it’s never really felt like just the four of us.”

“Is Noah in construction?”

Gray grinned like I’d said something funny. “Not even close. My brother owns Spread Your Wings Sanctuary. A wild bird sanctuary. He’s like the bird whisperer.”

“Wow, that’s cool.” And it was. I’d never owned a pet because my uncle wouldn’t allow us to have one but I loved animals and immediately liked anyone who had an affinity with them. I’d often contemplated getting a dog but I wasn’t home a lot and I didn’t think it would be fair to leave a pet on his/her own for so long every day. “Are you two very different then?”

“Yes and no.” He shrugged. “Different personalities but same values. Hard not to grow up with the same values in the extended King family. We’re all close. Got a good family. I’m lucky.”

Gray was lucky. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to grow up in such a big, loving family. I know I was lucky to have Killian, but it would have been nice for us both to have that kind of support outside of each other. The wistfulness I felt must have shown in my eyes because Gray’s filled with questions. Guessing what they were likely to be and not ready to answer them, I continued to guide the conversation. “And Yvette?” I said, referring to the woman Whitney had mentioned earlier in the day.

He leaned forward, bracing his crossed arms on the table, his expression casual. I searched for pain or anger in his eyes but saw nothing but calm. “My ex-fiancée.”

Whoa. Okay. Fiancée. Why did that cause a painful twist in my chest?

“We broke up nearly a year ago. We’d been together five years. She proposed to me.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I didn’t like it. I know that probably makes me a macho man dick in your eyes but I didn’t want to be proposed to. It was up to me to do the proposing.”

I shrugged, not bothered by this in the least, because frankly, as a romantic, I’d want to be proposed to. “You’re a traditionalist.”

“Yeah, when it comes to that shit I am. I said yes because I loved her and I didn’t want to hurt her. But over the years I managed to somehow put her off anytime she broached the subject of wedding planning. Finally everything came to a head. She pushed for me to set a date and I finally realized I loved her but the connection wasn’t there. We broke it off. I broke it off.”