Gorgeous: Book One (Gorgeous #1) - Lisa Shelby Page 0,41

I clasp my hands in front of me and sit back in my chair.

"Mr. McKinley, what if I don't return the same feelings for you?"

My heart drops to my gut. I swear I thought we were on the same page.

"You are being a bit presumptuous. You're just telling me how things are going to be without even asking me what I want."

She's sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed in front of her. Shit! I know I'm not crazy. I know she feels something.

"Olivia...I mean Miss Adams..."

She cuts me off again. I guess it's still her time to speak. "How do you know if we try this, it won't be just to break the rules, to try something new and forbidden?"

Solid point, but I know there's more here. She continues...

"How do you know I'm not after your money?"

"I know you better than that," I reply without hesitation.

She lifts an eyebrow at my answer. "How do you know I don't just want you for your body?"

A slow grin, that she can no longer hide, forms on her gorgeous face, and I'm finally in on the joke. She's messing with me.

"You feel it too." It's not a question. It's a statement, and she nods her agreement.

Bravado gone, she uncrosses her arms. Looking nervous, almost sheepish, she lifts her hand to take a drink of her orange juice, and she’s shaking.

When she puts the glass down, I take her trembling hand in mine. "Your pace. I don't need anything more than to be near you. Do you hear me? Your. Pace."

Our fingers tangle together, and as calm as she makes me, this simple gesture lights off every nerve ending in my body, and I swear I'm seeing colors I've never seen before.

"There's somewhere I want to take you after breakfast."

She nods and is back to seeming unsure when mere moments ago she seemed in such control.

I know exactly how you feel, gorgeous.

12

Olivia

As soon as we walk out the front door of the sweet little restaurant, he takes my hand in his. The feel of his warm hand engulfing mine is enough to keep me happy all day. I would walk anywhere he wanted to go as long as he was holding my hand.

It's a bit shocking at first. He seems too sophisticated for hand holding, but I am certainly not going to complain about it. We walk along the tiny sidewalk that has cars flying by on Highway 101 on our left and small little art galleries to our right.

As we casually saunter down the road, we take our time looking at the art in the windows but not saying much. When we arrive in front of a gallery called Eclipse, he stops.

"This gallery is full of pieces from local artists from all over the country, trying to get their start. They showcase up-and-coming artists that may not have had that first big opening yet but are on the cusp of being discovered."

"Wow, you sure know a lot about it."

"I do," he says, walking through the front door.

"Wait, I don't think their open yet," I whisper to his back as he pulls me inside with him.

There is a stunning older woman behind the counter who lights up when she's seen him. She leaves her desk and walks up to him with her arms open wide, and when she reaches him, she takes his face in her hands.

"Oh, my sweet boy, it's been too long!" She releases his face, and they embrace in a warm hug. It's then I catch her eye.

"And who is this lovely lady?" the woman asks, stepping back from Ronan, waiting for her introduction.

"Ava, this is my friend, Olivia. Olivia, this is Ava. She runs Eclipse and makes a mean enchilada," he says with affection in his voice. It's clear Ava is more than a shopkeeper, and it didn't escape me that he introduced me as his friend and not his employee.

"It's lovely to meet you, Ava." I say, taking her hand.

"Lovely to meet you, as well." She's talking to me, but she's looking at her sweet boy. I get the feeling she's important to him.

"So, what's new with the shop, Ava?" he asks with a big smile on his face, looking happier than I have ever seen him look.

I decide to take a walk around the small space and give them as much privacy as I can while I look at the pieces of art hanging on the gallery walls. There are paintings, prints, and photographs as