Frisk Me(96)

He saw his own pinkie brush back. Followed by his ring finger, then his third, until they were standing palm to palm, not quite holding hands, but almost. It was more intimate than holding hands, somehow. More intimate even than kissing.

“I’ve missed you,” he heard himself say.

Her hand twitched as her breath quickened a little, then it slowed, as though she forced herself not to react.

She said nothing.

Why should she? He’d all but planted his boot on her ass and kicked her out the door when she’d told him that she loved him.

Luc closed his eyes.

This woman loved him. And he’d thrown it back at her like a f*cking grenade.

And not because he didn’t love her back.

He did.

Desperately.

It was strange, how one could spend months…years…believing one thing with every fiber of one’s being, only to have your entire paradigm changed in a moment.

This was that moment.

Luc was still more aware than ever that this could be his grave that Ava would one day be bringing flowers to. Although hopefully not pink tulips.

But on the other hand…

He loved her. He loved her too much to let her go.

“Sims.”

Her fingers flinched as though she wanted to jerk her hand away, but his fingers grasped at hers, clenching them, maybe just a little bit desperately. Okay, a lot desperately.

He pulled her around to face him. “Is it creepy that I’m about to do this in a cemetery?”

Ava licked her lips. “Do what?”

Luc swallowed and reached slowly for her other hand. “Not so long ago, the two of us were on the same page about relationships. They weren’t for us.”

“Right.” The word was bland, calm, betraying nothing.

“That night, at my house…you…” Luc cleared his throat. In all of his family’s constant interfering over the past couple of weeks, how had nobody told him how hard this was going to be?

“That night at my house,” he continued, “you made it seem, like maybe…maybe you’d changed your mind about wanting a relationship.”

Ava gave a soft, sad laugh. “I wasn’t looking for a diamond ring and babies, Luc.”

Luc lifted his chin to meet her eyes. “What if I told you I was?”

She blinked but said nothing, and Luc’s hands squeezed on hers, nervous as hell as he moved even closer.

“Look, Sims, I’m not proposing. I don’t want to freak you out, and I know you’re probably having second thoughts about wanting anything to do with me after the way I let you leave that day, but Sims…Sims…letting you leave was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Pushing you away because of what happened to Mike, well that was the most cowardly thing I’ve ever done.”

God he was bad at this.

He drew her even closer, slowly lifting a hand to her face. “See, the thing is, Sims, you know me. You know me like nobody else does. I’ve never been America’s Hero to you. I haven’t even been Officer Moretti to you, and that used to make me crazy, because I thought that being a cop is who I was.”

Her eyes watered, and he pressed on, his other hand moving up so he was cradling her head in his hands. “I love being a cop, but I love you more. I’d give up being everybody else’s hero, if you’ll just let me be yours. Please, Sims.”

He searched her face, his heart kicking into overdrive when he saw the doubt and fear there. She was going to say no. He was too late.

So Luc did the last thing he could think of. He begged the only way he knew how.

He rested his forehead against hers, his thumbs brushing lightly over her cheeks as he closed his eyes and pleaded. “Ava.”

The touch was so light that he thought he imagined it at first, but then there was no mistaking her hands coming up to his arms, her fingers encircling his wrists.

Scared to hope, he opened his eyes.

She was smiling.

“You called me Ava.” Her voice was husky.

“I’ve called you Ava before.”

She shook her head. “No.”

He hadn’t?

“I’m saying it now,” he said, dipping his knees just slightly so they were at eye level. “I love you, Ava. And I’m not saying things are going to be easy, but I’d rather go hard with you than easy alone.”

She brushed her fingers gently over his mouth and he kissed them.

“So,” he said, voice rough. “I’m assuming based on the fact that you’re not slapping me or walking away that I’ve at least got a chance, but help a guy out here.”

His hands moved down to her back, clutching at her, maybe just a little desperately. He couldn’t help it. She mattered too much. Please love me back.

Slowly, she leaned in, pressing her mouth to his. “I love you too. And I don’t want you to be my hero. I just want you to be mine.”

“Thank God,” he muttered, yanking her closer and crushing his mouth to hers.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she kissed him back, hot and hungry for several seconds before yanking her head away.

“Okay, the tender scene in the cemetery is one thing, but this…”

“Yeah, this is…let’s not tell anyone.”

“Definitely not,” she agreed.