Confessions from the Quilting Circle - Maisey Yates Page 0,93
wasn’t ill, or in pain, and so she didn’t much mind the stretch marks and cellulite, in light of everything else.
She minded it all a little bit right now.
“Come here,” he said, grabbing her hand and leading her behind the counter.
“Well, we’re on the same side of the counter,” she said.
“It would be a little bit difficult if the counter was between us,” he said.
That was true. Maybe that was why they’d kept it between them quite so resolutely.
He took her into the kitchen, and she looked around, a little bit disoriented seeing the diner from a whole different perspective. But they moved quickly, to a door in the back, which opened to reveal a narrow, dark staircase.
“I promise the staircase is worse than the apartment.”
“It would have to be,” she said, laughing nervously.
She ignored the staircase, anyway, and she enjoyed the way that it felt to have him hold her hand. His hands were big, and they were calloused.
Warm.
She liked the feel of it.
She remembered when their fingertips had been so close to touching, only a couple of days ago, and she wondered... If they had brushed then, would they have ended up here even faster. She had a feeling they would have. That if they would have touched, this electricity would have been there.
Maybe it had been all along.
Waiting.
Waiting for the moment when they could touch.
That thought settled strange in the pit of her stomach.
He was right. The apartment was better than the staircase. It was homey, and cozy, with battered wood flooring, a small kitchen area, a seating area and a bed.
A large bed.
The blanket on top was a blue-and-white quilt, something that had to be either an heirloom or a thrift-store find because she couldn’t imagine Adam choosing something like that with great thought.
He closed the door behind them and went over to a heating-and-cooling unit on the wall, then pressed the button a few times. “It’ll get warm in here pretty quick,” he said.
“You do understand women,” she said, shivering slightly, though it wasn’t from the cold.
“Yeah, I remember some things.”
He closed the distance between them, and he cupped her chin, holding her steady as he leaned in to kiss her again. He took it slow this time, achingly so.
And with each pass of his mouth over hers, the kisses went deeper. Until she was utterly and completely lost in them.
In him.
And it was like freedom. Because for a moment she just felt good. Aroused in a way she hadn’t been in longer than she could remember. The excitement of his hands roaming over her body, even with her coat and dress on, was so intense she could hardly stand it.
It was bright, and it was new, and during this long, gray season, it was a gift.
He pushed her coat from her shoulders, and let it drop to the ground. He moved his hands down her back, to her bottom, pulling her up against him.
He touched her cheeks when she came into contact with the evidence of his arousal.
He wanted her.
And maybe he hadn’t seen the stretch marks, and maybe he hadn’t borne witness to the cellulite, but he wanted her as she was now, and that was truly something.
He took a step away from her, and he grabbed hold of the back of his shirt collar, pulling it forward over his head in that way that men did that was both mystifying and glorious all at once.
His body was...well, it was shocking.
If she had been hoping for him to maybe meet her at her insecurities, she knew that she was out of luck.
Because he was stunning.
A man, mature and in his prime, with muscles that were much more well-defined than she’d imagined beneath his typical uniform of a black T-shirt and jeans. She wasn’t sure if it excited her or terrified her to know that they were so unevenly matched on this score.
He wasn’t normal.
Mark’s body would have been way less intimidating than all of this—this perfection that nobody would have expected out of a diner owner in his forties. There should have at least been rumors going around about his abs, and yet, there were none. At least none that she had heard.
“What?” he asked.
She had probably been standing there staring like an idiot.
“I feel like you should probably warn people that you’re this hot.”
Half of his mouth rose upward, and a laugh that sounded somewhat helpless escaped his lips. “I’m sorry, what?”