I meet her eyes squarely and wait for her response.
“You ran a check?”
“Yeah, and you know what I found out, Clari?”
Her eyes heat every time I use her nickname, and I wonder what she’ll look like when I call her “baby” or “sweetheart.”
Slow and steady wins the race.
“I’m a white-trash princess from the wrong side of Philly’s tracks?”
“Nope. I found out that you got out of poverty and worked your way through college despite a mother who knew a bottle better than she knows her own child. That must have been hard, working your way through school and keeping your boyfriend happy.”
I’m not too impressed knowing that she put what little time she had into another man, but I’m not a lunatic, and I can’t go nuts because the woman loved another man.
No matter how much the thought bugs me.
“It was.”
So she’s not a Chatty Cathy. For some reason, I like that about her, as much as I liked reading about her volunteering at soup kitchens and churches even after Ellie left town.
“Why did you leave him?”
Her face heats this time and she goes ramrod straight before turning back to her food and picking at it.
“That’s none of your business.”
“I disagree. See, I happen to believe that when two people get intimate, they should know each other better than we do, so give me something here, Clari. Why the breakup and move halfway across the country?”
I want her to say that she didn’t love him anymore, or that she wanted something different, which I am, but she just shrugs and keeps avoiding my eyes.
“We are not going to be intimate, Jeremiah.”
Is that a challenge, sweet Clari?
“We will. But that’s not an issue right now. Like I said, we need to get to know each other.”
“Fine,” she huffs, laying her fork down and facing me. “I wanted a change, and that wasn’t going to happen in my situation. And I really missed Ellie, too. Happy?”
Not by a long shot, but I can deal with a snarky Clari as long as she’s talking to me.
“Not happy, no, but I’m okay with digging deeper into your past if you won’t talk to me about it,” I respond, schooling my face when her head shoots up and her eyes narrow.
“Jeremiah—”
“Miah, my name is Miah. Ma only calls me that to tick me off, and it works, so do me a favor and don’t call me that,” I warn.
I don’t hate the name. I just can’t stand to hear it all that often because it’s what Carrie used to call me all the time.
I’m not carrying around some flickering lovesick torch for my ex, but after finding one of my best friends and fellow SEAL balls deep in the woman I was planning to propose to, I don’t like any reminders of her.
Ma says the more I hear it, the easier it will get, but hearing that name on Clari’s lips seems wrong.
“Okay, Miah, here’s the thing. We are not getting to know each other or sleeping together or whatever it is you all of a sudden want. Nice about-face, by the way, but give a girl a chance to recover from the freaking whiplash, would you?”
My Clari may be the retiring type who hates arguments and scenes, but she’s not exactly a pushover, either. Of course she’d choose tonight to let her stubborn streak rear its ugly head.
Too bad for her, I can feel her attraction to me practically seeping from her skin, and I have no intention of letting her hold me off now that I’ve decided to just give in and see where things go.
All I have to do now is convince her that an affair is a good idea. This is not exactly my forte since women usually throw themselves at me, but I’m SEAL-trained and know how to plan my attacks perfectly.
By the time I have Clari Elms, she won’t know what hit her.
“Oh we’re going to be together, Clari, mark my words. It’s up to you how long this drags out, though,” I whisper, leaning closer so that my breath tickles over the sensitive skin just beneath her ear.
She shivers delicately and gets all flustered, reminding me of the fact that although she’s been with a guy for years, Clari is still innocent of so much.
It should be fun unleashing all that fire I’ve heard redheads possess.
“I hate controlling men,” she says after dessert arrives and we’ve tuned back into the conversation.
The statement is so quietly spoken and emphatic that I know she’s giving me a hint.
“Clari, babe, I have no intentions of controlling you. I’m a cop who has to control everything around me every day, and I don’t want that shit in a relationship. Saying that we’re going to be together is not me trying to force my will on you. It’s just a fact. We’ve been circling each other for months now, woman. Don’t you think it’s time we stop being so stubborn and just enjoy what can be?”