Love on Beach Avenue(61)

She shook her head and gripped the edge of the table. The evening had been so hopeful, and with his words, she found her hopes shredded in tatters. “What type of life do you expect to lead without the hope of love or marriage?” she whispered.

His voice was gentle, but firm. “An honest one. It doesn’t mean I can’t experience things such as passion and romance and beauty. I just choose not to follow a road that I don’t believe in.” He leaned in and took her hands, clasping them in his warm, strong grip. “Is this a make or break for you, Avery? Would you be able to open yourself up to a man without the promise of marriage and happily ever after? Can you grasp the moment and steep yourself in it without trying to define what we feel for each other? I can offer you so many other things.”

A shudder racked her as a ravenous need to touch him clawed through her, to press her lips to his and let herself get carried away by her body and the sweet promise of passion. To be in his bed, naked underneath him, and allow herself to fall apart under his talented fingers. She wanted it all so badly, she almost pretended his words didn’t matter. Almost convinced herself she’d be able to handle a decadent summer affair with no promises except for physical delight.

But that would be a lie.

A lie for both of them.

She brought his hands up to her lips and pressed her mouth against his rough skin. “Who hurt you so badly?” she asked. “What happened to you that tore you apart?”

He jerked. She tightened her grip, staring deep into those beautiful, stormy eyes, and urged him to share. But he either couldn’t, or chose not to. She could practically feel the distance between them, as if the walls were closing in around his heart to barricade him into safety. He didn’t answer, his pain trapped in a place she couldn’t get to.

Her own heart breaking, she told him the truth. “I can’t, Carter. Being a wedding planner isn’t just a job to me. It’s a belief in everything I do. I want to fall in love and get married and have a crazy, messy, joyous life. I believe in all of it, and that my happy ending is out there. And I’m afraid if I let myself open up with you, I’ll fall hard, and you won’t be there to catch me. Not because you don’t want to, but because you don’t believe enough to be there.”

He muttered a curse. Sadness and loss twisted inside her for something she hadn’t even tasted yet. She couldn’t imagine what type of pain she’d go through if she allowed herself to give in and follow his path. It was as if the more time they spent together, the harder she fell, her soul seeming to recognize his.

No. He was too dangerous. Better to know now their relationship could go no further. Better to protect herself against the one thing he didn’t believe in.

Forever.

An aching silence stretched between them. They held each other’s hands, realizing they were at a crossroads, until Lucy got fed up with waiting for her next bite and let out a whine.

Avery’s eyes burned, but she forced herself to speak. “I should go.”

“I don’t want you to.”

His plea made her shiver, but there was no happy ending here. “Neither do I. But we can’t change who we are, or what we want. It’s better not to make it more complicated.”

His hands slowly fell away, and she stood. Gathering up her stuff, she walked to the front door and turned. “Thanks for dinner.”

He stood close. The delicious male scent of him rose to her nostrils. Her gaze fell to his lips, and she fought the treacherous need to kiss him one last time so she could hold it in her memory forever.

She tipped her chin up, meaning to keep her goodbye brief, and suddenly they were in each other’s arms. Her hands gripped his shoulders and his forehead pressed to hers, his breathing ragged, while he waited for her to step back and shut the door behind her.

She didn’t.

Their mouths fused together, and her arms tightened around him as she surrendered to the embrace, her breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest. Her lips opened under the sweet thrust of his tongue, kissing him back deeply while her fingers stabbed into the silky blackness of his hair to keep him from pulling away. He groaned her name and dove his tongue deep, gathering her taste, and his erection notched between her thighs, making her grow wet and achy.

His hands slid down her back, cupped her butt, and brought her up high. He backed her up against the wall, and she clung to him as wildfire flowed hot in her veins, driving her to take everything from him in that perfect heartbreaking moment.

His teeth nipped, and his tongue soothed. His fingers bit into her flesh, and he rocked his hips against her, driving her mad with lust and the need for more. She moaned his name, and he swallowed it whole while her hands roamed over his body, enjoying each hard muscle and desperately trying to touch his naked skin. She yanked his shirt up and slid both palms over his chest, the crisp hair tickling her, his ab muscles jumping under her caress.

“I want to touch you,” he growled, dropping stinging kisses over the vulnerable curve of her neck. He snaked one hand to her front and cupped her breast. Her nipple hardened under the scratchy lace of her bra, begging for contact. “I want to please you.”

A shudder worked through her. She arched up for more, and his fingers slid under her top to stroke and play, scraping her nipple with his thumb. Her breasts swelled, and he muttered her name in question. She paused, on the verge of mind and body warring together, but then his fingers tightened on her nipple, and a bolt of pain and pleasure shot through her and weakened her knees.