Home > 302 Forbidden Ave. (A Cherry Falls Romance #9)(9)

302 Forbidden Ave. (A Cherry Falls Romance #9)(9)
Author: Jenika Snow

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t want to tell her I felt the same way about her, didn’t want to put my foot in my mouth and fuck this up. I stared into her hazel eyes, ones that looked more green than brown. I could get lost in them, just drown in them, and I’d be so fucking happy. Deliriously so.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked, and I nodded maybe a little too fast, a little too eagerly.

But it took her a second to ask, and I grew nervous about what she’d say. It was clearly hard for her to get the words out. “Why’d you ask me out? Why me, when I’m sure you can get any woman in Cherry Falls. Heck, I’ve seen more than one check you out since we’ve been at the diner.”

Oh, okay. That caught me a little off guard, and I blinked a few times, trying to figure out how to answer her without making myself seem like a fucking weirdo. “I haven’t noticed anyone else looking at me,” I answered honestly.

Her eyes widened. “Really? How could you not? They’ve been blatant.” Was that… jealousy I heard in her voice? Her brows pulled down, and she glanced away before she cleared her expression and stared back at me.

“I didn’t notice any of them, because I only see you.”

Her eyes widened a fraction, and I heard her sharp inhale. “Oh,” she breathed out.

“Why you?” I brought the conversation back to her original conversation. I’d planned on going slow, taking my time with her. I wanted her to feel comfortable with me, trust me before I just told her how I felt. But she asked, so I’d tell her.

She nodded.

“Why not you, Amelia?” I felt bold as I reached out and took her hand in mine. She licked her lips, and I practically felt her nervousness pouring out of her and coating the space between us. And when she didn't pull away, when she let me hold her hand, stroke my thumb along her soft skin, I felt arousal burn through me fiercely.

“I’ve wanted to ask you out for the last year,” I admitted. Everything else faded away until it was just the two of us, until I was here, finally admitting all the things I felt and wanted with her.

 

 

8

 

 

Amelia

 

 

Before I could say anything, heck, even process what Braxton just told me, our meals were arriving and Dolly was talking a mile a minute as she set the plates in front of us.

“Be right back with your shakes.” She gave me a wink and was gone, and I looked at my plate of burger and fries, licked my lips—which had nothing to do with my appetite and everything to do with Braxton admitting he wanted to ask me out for a year—and finally looked up at him.

He watched me, his expression hard to read.

“I put my foot in my mouth, didn’t I?” he asked softly and grabbed his glass of water Dolly had given us before she’d taken our order.

“You didn’t. My silence is clearly making things weird.” I kept my focus trained on him even though the weight of his stare made me feel on edge. I didn't know if it was the good or bad kind.

“I just wanted to be honest with you, but maybe I should have waited until after we ate so you didn’t lose your appetite.” He chuckled, but the sound was tense and forced.

I felt something swell in my chest and found myself reaching out and being the one to take his hand in mine. My palm over his seemed so small in comparison, and I stared at it. My flesh was pale where his was tan, yet his skin was smooth despite me knowing he had working man hands… hero hands. No doubt, there were callouses lining the long, thick digits, and a part of me wanted to turn his hand around to run my fingers over them.

How many people had he helped save with these hands? How many lives had he saved on his own?

“I just like you, Braxton.” I let the words spill from me and tightened my hand over his. “A lot. For just as long as you’ve wanted to ask me out.” My admission came out soft, almost too soft for him to hear, and when he slid his hand out from under mine, a moment of panic settled through me. It vanished when he curled his fingers through mine, holding onto me tightly.

“Yeah?” His voice was thick, as if he couldn’t believe I felt the same way.

I felt my face heat for the hundredth time tonight and nodded.

Dolly was back with the shakes, said a few more things to me that I didn’t hear because Braxton and I were still staring at each other so intently, and then we were left alone again. He gave my hand a squeeze, gave me a sincere smile I saw was full of… heat, and then we were digging into our food.

Despite what we just admitted to each other, the next hour passed by so seamlessly, so flawlessly, as we talked about everything and anything. I learned about his passion for being a firefighter, and just like I’d known, he was a hero. He wanted to help people above all else.

I told him about how it was just my father and me, how my mother passed away shortly after I’d been born, and how my dad had been so devastated he’d thrown himself into anything that could take his mind off his heartache. Even over two decades later, my father still had a broken heart. Then again, that's what true love did to a person. When they lost the one they cared about above all else, their world was dark and bleak and never the same.

I forgot we were in a crowded restaurant, because our conversation was intimate and perfect, and it was like Braxton only saw me. It was like his world revolved around me.

Once we were done eating, Braxton paid the bill, and we walked through the restaurant and out the front doors. I felt a tingle of awareness when he held the door open for me with one hand and placed his other on the small of my back. His palm was big and warm and reassuring, and I swallowed the sudden wave of desire that pushed everything else I felt aside.

We stopped by his truck, and like the gentleman he’d been all night, he opened the door for me and helped me inside, shutting it softly behind me and walking around the front before climbing in himself. My place was close to the restaurant, so the drive was—unfortunately—far too short. He pulled into the driveway and left the truck idling.

“Can I walk you to your front door?”

I didn’t want my smile to be so big, didn’t want him to know how much I liked him offering, but… too late. I looked like a damn fool for how wide my grin was. I got myself under control and nodded. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I’d like that, Braxton.” I’d like that probably more than is normal.

My hand went to the door handle, but the pointed glare he gave me had me chuckling and lifting my fingers away. I was all about female equality, but I’d be lying if I didn't admit letting Braxton take these liberties—being chivalrous—made me feel all kinds of special. I’d take this kind of attention from him all day, every day.

He helped me out of the passenger side, and before I could even take a step, he reached down and took my hand in his. Another jolt of electricity slammed into me, and I craned my head to look up at him from under my lashes. He was already watching me, this look of pure possessiveness on his face as he stared into my eyes. If he didn’t have a firm hold on my hand, I knew my knees would have buckled out from under me at how much I wanted to be his.

Once we reached the front door—which, once again, was too short a walk for my taste where spending time with Braxton was concerned—I turned and looked up at him. He still held my hand, and I liked the fact that he seemed to not be able to let go.

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