Pieces of Us - Carrie Elks Page 0,35

in a long time.

Maybe ever.

“I have no idea why you divorced, but your ex was a damn fool.”

Autumn laughed. “What if it was my fault?”

“Then it was his fault for not keeping you happy.”

“Yeah, well that part was true. And I guess it was both of our faults. Living with somebody and working with them was a recipe for disaster.” She thought about the NDA she’d signed. Best not to tell him too much about that.

He raised his eyebrows. “You worked together?”

“Yeah. He bought me out of our company. I used the money to buy the pier.” She ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. “How about you? You ever been married?”

He shook his head. “No. But I never wanted to. Still don’t. My parents weren’t exactly a great advertisement for marital harmony.”

She remembered Deenie telling her something similar at the party. “Are they divorced?” she asked him.

“They should be. But right now they’re probably screaming at each other in a bungalow outside of Fort Lauderdale.” He caught her eye. “Thankfully I don’t have to listen to them tear each other apart anymore.”

As though she could sense his discomfort, Autumn pulled her bottom lip between her teeth then released it, her mouth curling into a shy smile.

It was like she was standing on the edge of something. Afraid, but elated. Her eyes were feverish, glancing at him, then looking down at her hands before catching his gaze again. When was he going to kiss her? Her body ached for it. She’d barely thought about anything else all day.

“I’m not looking for anything serious,” she told him. “But I really like you, Griff.”

“Being un-serious is completely fine with me.” He looked serious, though. Deadly. And it made her body heat up.

This time she didn’t pull her eyes away. They stared at each other for a long moment, the air pulsating between them. Griff curled his fingers, digging his nails into his palms in an effort to stop himself from reaching across to her.

“Why don’t you sit on the sofa while I clean up,” she suggested. “Then we can talk…or…whatever.”

The corner of his lips quirked up. “I’m not sitting down while you wait on me. I’ll help you clean,” he told her. “Then let’s see where the evening takes us.”

12

The chinaware was all washed up and put away, the countertops sparkling. Autumn filled their glasses with more of Griff’s delicious wine and carried them into the living area.

Though the room was compact, the cream leather sofa was huge, dominating the space. But it looked so much smaller when Griff was on it. She sat down beside him, leaving a gap between them.

“Cheers.” They clinked glasses and she took a sip of the cool, crisp wine. She could feel her cheeks warm up as he kept his eyes on hers, his gaze direct and yet soft, too.

“You look scared.”

“I feel scared,” she told him honestly.

His brows dipped. “Why?”

She put her glass down on the driftwood coffee table and curled her legs beneath her, tipping her head to the side as she considered his question. “Because I feel vulnerable, yet full of some weird anticipation. It’s a strange cocktail.”

The corner of his lips lifted as he continued to look at her. She felt a shiver snake its way down her spine. God, he was masculine, probably the strongest man she’d ever met. It was like he could melt her with his gaze.

“Come here,” he said softly.

She swallowed, then inched across until her thigh brushed against his.

“I mean here,” he told her, pointing at the top of his legs. It was her turn to smile as she climbed over him, kneeling on either side of his substantial thighs.

“That’s better,” he murmured, reaching out to smooth her hair from her face. “We’re a little more equal like this.”

He leaned forward, his nose sliding against hers. She looked into his warm brown eyes. Being this close she could see little green specks in his irises, like emeralds glistening in stone.

Cupping his face in her hands, her fingertips grazed his cheekbones. The roughness of his beard scraped against her palms as he stared at her questioningly.

“You’re very beautiful,” he whispered as her thumbs traced the line of his jaw.

“You’re pretty hot yourself.” She leaned forward until her lips brushed against his cheek.

She could feel his breath against her, warm and fragrant with wine. She leaned closer still, and he ran his hands down her back, cupping her behind as she straddled him.

The first time they