Crazy Ever After by Kelly Jamieson Page A

sighed. “It was fine.”
    “You look exhausted.”
    She smiled wryly. “Thanks. I can always count on you to keep my ego in check.”
    He ran a hand through his hair and was that much closer to the youthful surfer-dude he’d been back when she’d first met him. His gold hair stuck up in all directions, appealingly tousled. “I don’t mean you don’t look good. Jesus.” He shook his head. “You look gorgeous as always. I’m just saying.” He tipped his head as he looked at her.
    Her stomach swooped at hearing him say she was gorgeous. “I am tired,” she admitted, peering down at her wine glass. She couldn’t look at him anymore or she might jump onto his lap. “It’s exhausting. Thanks for doing the eulogy. It was...” She paused, unable to find the right words. She didn’t want to admit how much his words had meant to her. “...good.”
    He gave a short laugh. “And likewise, my ego is firmly put in place by you.”
    She lifted her eyes, surprised. He was smiling, eyes glinting. She’d always liked how he didn’t take himself too seriously, and the flash of humor made her relax minutely. Godfrey, he was sexy. Her body wanted to lean in closer, and she tightened every muscle she could. An urgent yearning for him burned low inside her.
    “Are you seriously going to stay here?” he asked.
    She held his gaze. “Yes.” Then she said, “What about you? You’re not going back to Los Angeles?”
    “No.”
    He too held her gaze. She lifted her chin. He lifted his. Sparks damn near flashed between them
    She stood to face him, but as she did so, one of her spiky Jimmy Choo heels slipped on the rough stone patio.
    Travis reached out and caught her arm. “Whoa.” His hand was big and warm on her bare arm, and his jacket slid off her shoulders to the patio. Startled by the rush of pleasure she felt at his touch, she wrenched her arm away from him and almost lost her balance again. Wine sloshed in her glass.
    Suddenly on his feet, Travis made a grab for the glass and for her at the same time, his big hard body crowding her. “Samara.”
    He held her by her upper arm, his grip tight. His mouth pressed into a tight line, he took the wine glass and poured the contents into a plant. He set the goblet down on the table and took hold of her other arm.
    “Let go of me,” she muttered, her face so close to his she could see the glints of gold whiskers in the faint light from the house.
    “Are you okay?”
    She was not okay. She was a wreck. She was strung out, her emotions a twisted knot of confusion, fear and frustration. And she was hot. “I’m fine,” she said through her teeth, trying to pull away from him. His hands tightened, and she shifted against his hard body. Heat radiated off him in waves.
    The voices inside had disappeared. Had the party finally ended? Then faintly, the sound of voices, car doors slamming, and engines starting drifted on the evening breeze from the front of the house.
    “I should be saying good night to the guests,” she choked out.
    “Your mother will do it.”
    They stood like that, bodies touching, faces close, staring at each other for long, stretched-out moments. Samara’s heart was pattering so fast she couldn’t tell one beat from the next. Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed with difficulty, licking her lips without conscious thought.
    Travis’s eyes went to her mouth, and hot liquid pooled down deep inside her between her legs. Her breasts swelled, her nipples tingled, and her lips parted as she watched his eyes darken, still fixed on her mouth.
    “Oh sweet Jesus,” he muttered. He gave her body a hard little jerk, bringing her right up against him, and it felt so good to press her aching breasts against his hardness. She felt his arousal against her and wanted to feel it lower, deeper. Involuntarily her hips arched against him, and he groaned.
     
     
    * * *
     
     
     
    He shouldn’t have come out here. Travis knew he should keep his distance from her. The