“You do that to me.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Yes.” She nodded. “I do. And I did it to her when she was just a girl, too. It’s love, Jamie. There’s nothing more powerful than the draw of the heart.”
He dropped his eyes to keep her from seeing the emotion in them.
“There’s a glimmer in someone’s eyes when they’re in love. Your grandfather had it the first time he met me. I wanted to savor that look and put it in my pocket. You know that feeling when you want to remember something until the day you die?”
Vera had a way with words that cut to the chase. “I think I do now.”
“He looked at me like that every morning for the rest of his life. Oh, he had his moments. The ice-cream-before-dinner moments.” She laughed. “But when something is as right as rain, no umbrella in the world can keep you from getting drenched. Don’t expect it to be all flowers and prettiness. Real love isn’t like that. Love is painful and beautiful at the same time. Sometimes it grips your lungs so tight you’re sure you’ll die for lack of air, and then it drags you down and beats you until you wish you would die. And just as quickly, it fills your lungs with helium and you think you might float away. And eventually, when you’ve paid your dues and knocked down the walls that kept the sweet, soft middle of your heart safe for all these years, that’s when you settle into togetherness.”
“Why are you telling me this now, Gram?”
“Because you’re a careful man. You see women a few times, and then you bury your feelings in the computer. It’s time to break that cycle and let yourself love and be loved. This is your summer, sweetheart. I can feel it in my bones. I see that glimmer in your eyes, and that little honeybee up there with the beautiful smile and eyes that look at you like you’re a gift of the sweetest nectar she’s ever encountered? I have a feeling it’s her summer, too. Go. Be happy.”
Jamie hadn’t thought he needed his grandmother’s approval to allow himself to let his feelings come forth, but as he ascended the stairs to Jessica’s apartment, he realized that there was a piece of him that hadn’t wanted to spread himself too thin, for fear of not being there for Vera. How could she have known that when he hadn’t had a clue?
It wasn’t yet six thirty when he knocked on Jessica’s door, paper bag in hand, as transparent a ruse as Saran Wrap.
The door opened just a crack, and Jessica peered up at him. A smile spread across her lips and filled her eyes.
“Hi.”
Her voice had that sleepy, sexy, just waking up sound, and it made him want to gather her in his arms and become one with her while her body was still warm from the sheets. He couldn’t even begin to pretend otherwise.
“I…”
She opened the door and leaned her shoulder against it, her legs crossed at the ankle, her back slightly arched. Her hair was tousled, cascading over the silky, spaghetti-strap camisole that stopped just short of her belly button, exposing a path of skin that Jamie knew intimately. His mouth watered at the memory of how sweet and hot her skin was against his lips, how responsive her body was to him. His eyes slid lower, to the lace panties she had on, and he was a goner.
“I brought our third date. I mean, breakfast.”
Her dimples came with her smile as she pushed open the screen door and he closed the distance between them. She smelled like a springtime afternoon—only warmer. With the bag in one hand, he leaned down and kissed her. She circled his neck with her arms and he kicked the door shut behind him. Holy smokes, he lost all control around her. He should take her out for a three-course champagne breakfast. She deserved it, but as the bag slid from his hand and he caught the edge of it and set it on the floor, it was all he could do to remember to breathe. With one strong arm around her waist, he lifted her to him, and her legs naturally circled him as he deepened the kiss and backed her up against the closed door. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held on tight—damn, that amped up the heat—and she slicked her tongue along his lower lip, pulling a hungry moan from his lungs.
“Is this our third date?” Her eyes darkened, narrowed seductively.
“Oh, yes. Hungry?”
“Only for you.” She pressed her lips together and smiled that Cupid-like smile that shot straight to his heart and nearly killed him every time.
He settled his mouth over the pulse point on her neck, feeling the quickening beneath his tongue. She fisted her hand in his hair and held him to her. He kissed and sucked a path along her collarbone, up along her jaw, to her mouth once again. The urgent kiss was rough and greedy. He needed her more than he’d needed her five seconds earlier. He drew her camisole over her head and tossed it away.