Asking for Trouble - Leslie Kelly [91]
“Sounds to me like you need to pick the damn thing up and run it back into your end zone, then,” Gloria said, snapping her gum. Her eyes scanned the crowd, watching, as always, for her two sons, both under the age of five. We affectionately called them “the heathens.”
“Leave her be,” Rachel said, reaching over and taking my cold hand. “Sugar, you look like your heart’s near to breaking. Now I know you haven’t wanted to talk but you know we’re all here for you.”
Behind her, two more female heads suddenly popped up from the bench behind this one. Meg and Noelle had obviously been sitting there, waiting for their chance to jump into this conversation. They wore similar, mischievous smiles.
“Jeez, is Mama going to come crawling out from under the table next?” I muttered.
“She knows you won’t open up about everything that happened if she’s here,” Meg admitted, a pink flush rising in her soft cheeks. That gentle, darling face was quite a contrast with the woman’s knockout figure. “I mean, we can all tell you’ve…changed. But I don’t think she wants to know the details.”
Mama would have a heart attack if she knew the details.
Before I could answer, I heard Noelle, my newest sister-in-law, let out a low wolf whistle. “Whoa, Nellie, who’s the hunk who just walked in the door behind Aunt Carmela?”
I couldn’t even muster enough interest to look up.
Then Gloria let out a loud sigh. “Somebody tell me if you hear my knees knockin’ together. Talk about tall, dark and dangerous.”
I immediately went still. A sudden flow of electric tension washed over me, and I knew I was being watched. I also knew by who.
I slowly looked up, toward the door, and saw him standing there. Aunt Carmela, who probably stood only as high as Simon’s throat, was chattering up at him and one of my cousins had walked over to greet him. But he paid no attention.
Every bit of his attention was focused on me.
Feeling the cold, hard knot that had been in my stomach for a month begin to unfurl, I put my hands flat on the table. Knowing I was going to be all right, I murmured, “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I think I have a ball to go pick up.”
It took maybe five seconds for my meaning to sink in. Then one of them gasped. Or they all did. I barely noticed.
Slipping out of the seat, I walked slowly across the room. He came forward to meet me, his dark, blazing eyes never shifting left or right. They were locked on me, burning with emotion.
From a few feet away, I noted the changes. His face had more color, the hollows beneath his eyes were gone. And though he wore a heavy overcoat, I could see his muscular body had filled out a little bit, erasing any sign of illness.
He looked, in fact, delicious.
“Hi,” I murmured when I got to within a foot of him. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
He stepped in close, sliding a hand around my waist and tugging me against his body. “And Merry Christmas,” he growled before lowering his mouth and catching mine in a hungry, desperate kiss.
Elsewhere in the room, I’m sure, we had a wide-eyed audience. But frankly I just didn’t care. His arms held me tight, and I slid mine around his neck. Our deep, intimate kiss continued silently, but with our bodies, we cemented one certainty—neither of us was letting go. Ever.
Finally, apparently realizing everyone around us had stopped talking and was watching in shock, Simon ended the kiss and looked into my eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Yeah. I know. I’m ready to let you now.”
He didn’t have to explain. I understood.
“I’m fine, Lottie. I’m whole.”
I nodded. I could see that. The shadows were gone, the pain and guilt had finally disappeared from his beautiful, scarred face. This was the Simon I’d seen more and more of at Seaton House. The other one—the dark, angry one—had disappeared.
“I’m really fine,” he added. He lifted a hand and brushed my hair back, frowning as he ran the pad of his thumb under my eye, as if rubbing away the tired circles there. “Are you?”
Catching his hand, I brought it to my lips for a kiss. “I’m fine now, too. I was just getting