Shattered (Anderson Special Ops #4) - Melody Anne Page 0,70

Yugoslavia . . .

This was the book. There was no doubt in her mind. It was about war and peace. It was about heroes rushing in when their fellow men and women needed them. It was exactly who Smoke was, and she smiled as she tucked it under her arm and made her way to the checkout counter.

Amira had the book wrapped then found her way to a local bakery that sold the most divine treats. She looked at the racks of cakes but thought it was a bit much to get an entire cake. She was sure Smoke could polish off one all on his own, but she wasn’t sure if he celebrated his birthday, let alone liked cake. She finally settled on a box of gourmet cookies and cupcakes she’d have waiting at the restaurant table as he walked in. She’d just have to make sure she arrived before him.

When Amira finished shopping she went home and got ready for the evening. She didn’t struggle as much with what to wear and how to do her hair and makeup as she had the last time. Now she knew there were real feelings, and there was no doubt this was a date.

What Amira did struggle with was what to wear beneath her clothes. Every part of her wanted the evening to end with her in Smoke’s bed. She didn’t want to tell herself she was hoping for just that. Did she want Smoke to know that’s what she was hoping for? If she put on super sexy underwear it would be obvious she’d been hopeful. If she put on ugly underwear, which all women had for those comfy days they wore sweats, she’d be too embarrassed to strip.

She finally found a matching bra and panties that were lacy and made her assets look pretty dang great in her opinion but weren’t so over-the-top that they screamed sex. She then put on a fitted jade dress that hugged her curves and swirled around her thighs, making her feel like she could be a ballerina. She was far too tall and muscled for ballet, but she didn’t mind feeling like a flawless dancer. She finished her outfit with black heels that made her feel like a million bucks.

It was time to leave.

She made it to the restaurant thirty minutes before they were to meet and was grateful to find Smoke wasn’t there yet. She knew Smoke tended to be early, so she’d been really early. She wanted a glass of wine to settle her nerves, and she wanted his treats hidden on the chair and his present to be on the table to give them an ice-breaking moment. It had been weeks since she’d seen him last, and anticipation made her more nervous by the moment.

She’d just ordered her second glass of wine when the air shifted, alerting her that Smoke was drawing near. She’d never believed a person could be so in-tune with another that they’d know when that person was in the same room. She now knew how true that was. She looked up and found him, looking drool-worthy in a fitted pair of jeans and a light grey sweater that hugged the unbelievably large muscles of his chest, abs, and arms. She wanted to taste every square inch of the man, over, and over, and over again.

He made it to the table, and Amira wanted to give him a hug, but she found her legs suddenly trembling. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand. Instead, she looked him in the eyes and smiled, her heart racing.

“Happy birthday, Smoke,” she said, her voice low and husky. No other man had been able to shake her up so much. She wasn’t surprised she’d been afraid to take this relationship to any level, even just the first level. He messed with her tidy world. Maybe that was exactly what she needed.

He smiled at her words and leaned down and kissed her cheek, his lips on her skin scorching her.

“Did my mother tell you it was my birthday?” he asked. He sat down across from her, his large frame blocking her view of the other diners.

“Yes, she did. She didn’t say you had any plans, but if we have to hurry through this dinner, I’ll completely understand,” she told him.

His eyes never left hers as he smiled, making her feel as if they were the only ones in the crowded restaurant.

“There’s no place I’d rather be than right here, right now,