Unbreakable (Cloverleigh Farms, #4)(60)

“Thanks for this,” Sylvia said, looking up at me. “I know it’s probably not comfortable.”

“Your daughter is looking a little unsettled.”

Sylvia shook her head. “I’m not even turning around to look at her. We are dancing, that’s all.”

“Okay.” But I adjusted my hold on her, putting a little more space between our bodies.

Sylvia laughed. “Are you trying to leave room for the Holy Ghost?”

“I’m trying to be a good person, and you make it hard.”

She nestled in closer, pressing her breasts against my chest. “How hard?” she whispered.

“Oh, Jesus.” I shook my head. “You need to stop. My mind is going to some dangerous places right now.”

“Tell me about it.” Then she went up on tiptoe to whisper in my ear. “And use all the dirty words. You know how I like them.”

I groaned, closing my eyes for a second. “Sylvia. We’re in a room full of people and we’re being watched.”

She giggled and backed off—a little. “Okay, okay. Sorry. Misbehaving is new to me, and I’m a little addicted to it.”

For the rest of the song, I told myself not to worry so much and just enjoy the feel of her in my arms. This was as much of her as I would get tonight, so I might as well savor it. When the song ended, we walked back to our table hand in hand.

“Hey, Syl,” Meg said brightly, picking her purse up from the floor. “Come to the ladies’ room with me.”

“Okay.” Sylvia reached beneath her chair for her purse before turning to me. “Be right back.”

“No problem.” I watched her walk away with her sister and knew in my gut Meg was going to ask her what was going on with us. It still didn’t stop me from staring at Sylvia’s butt and the way that skirt clung and shimmered as she moved.

“So,” Noah said, tipping up his beer. “How long have you been in love with Sylvia?”

I made a sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh. “Uh, since I saw her in that skirt?”

Noah nodded and touched his beer bottle to my glass. “Good answer.”





Seventeen





Sylvia





Meg dashed past the ladies’ room at the pace of an Olympic sprinter. “There could be people in there. Come in here.”

I felt myself being dragged into the catering office at the end of the hall. “Meg, what on earth?”

“We need to talk.” She shut the door, snapped on the overhead light, and turned to face me, her eyes gleaming. “What’s going on with you and Henry?”

“Um . . .”

“Don’t even bother lying to me. I can see that there’s a thing between you. You’re all over him.”

“What? I am not.”

She rolled her eyes. “Syl, you’ve practically been in his lap all night. And he’s been looking at you with that look in his eye.”

“What look?”

Her brows peaked. “The I’ve got ideas look. Now tell the truth.” She folded her arms. “Did you sleep with him?”

I sighed, giving up the pretense. “Yes.”

She squealed and clapped her hands. “Yay! Once?”

“Yes.” Then I grinned. “Once in the hallway, once in his bed, once in his bathtub, and once in his office.”

The smile slid off Meg’s face, her expression morphing from delight to shock. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve done it that many times since you’ve been home?”

“Well, most of that happened last Saturday night. But yeah, things did move kind of quickly.” I lifted my shoulders. “I’m a little scared how quickly, actually.”

“Why? He seems like such a great guy.”

“Because he is a great guy. Because I like him so much. Because if my life were different and not so fucked up, he’d be exactly the kind of guy I was looking for.” I swallowed hard. “I could fall for him so easily, Meg.”

“But your life isn’t fucked up anymore, Syl—that’s the beautiful thing.” She took me by the shoulders. “Don’t scare yourself out of giving him a chance.”

“I’m not, I swear.” I shook my head. “In fact, I’d probably be wise to be more cautious, not less. But I can’t seem to stay away from him.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“There’s this voice,” I blurted.

“Voice?”

“In my head,” I explained. “And it makes me doubt myself. It makes me feel like I can’t trust what I’m feeling.”

“Don’t listen to it,” she said, as if it were that easy.

“But—”

“But nothing. I know how unhappy you were last fall—how unhappy you’ve been for years. If the thought of being with Henry makes you happy, you should give him a chance.”

“It’s not just me I have to think about,” I reminded her. “I have two children.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about them.” She sighed. “Children do make things more complicated. But I’m sure yours want you to be happy, right? You just have to talk to them.”