Stinger (A Sign of Love Novel)

"Why did you do it?" I asked, trying to relax.

She shook her head slightly. "At the time, I guess I just needed a reminder about why I shouldn't contact you," she said, her eyes filling with sadness.

I breathed out harshly and turned to face her fully. "Did you miss me?" I asked.

She nodded. "So much, Carson," she said softly.

"Me too," I said quietly back. "It's why I came to see you before I shipped out. I wanted to tell you."

She smiled sadly and opened her mouth to say something when a collective "Oooh" sounded from the group around us and the water show started.

We stood watching it for several minutes and then I moved closer to Grace, our sides barely touching, but the heat of her felt like it was scorching me, moving through me, taking me over. I wanted to move behind her and hold her in my arms like I had the last time we were here. And then I wanted to take her back to my house and–I slammed the brakes on that line of thought. It was only going to lead to pain on several different levels, most notably at the moment, a serious case of blue balls.

She looked up at me and our eyes met, something electric passing between us. She moved back quickly as if she'd been jolted and sucked in a breath. "We should go," she said.

"It's not over," I said back quietly.

Her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly as we drank each other in. I gestured my head toward the water. "The show," I said quietly.

She blinked as if coming out of a trance. "I… I work early. I should… get home…" she trailed off.

I looked at her for another few seconds. "Okay," I said, turning and leading her through the light crowd of people still watching the water.

We walked back to my truck, and I held the door open for her and took her hand to help her climb inside. Another rush of warmth passed through our hands and she glanced down at me quickly, her lips parting slightly. She pulled her hand away and got inside. I walked around to my side and got in and started the engine.

I exited the garage and started driving back toward Summerlin. We were both quiet, thinking our own thoughts. The lines of Grace's body looked tense in my peripheral vision. It was clear that we still had the same chemistry we'd had the last time we were together. I wanted to see her again. But how was that supposed to happen exactly? I hadn't asked a lot about her fiancé, but I figured although he might accept one dinner out with an "old friend," he'd probably question two. He'd also probably frown upon me kissing his fiancé up against the door of her house when I dropped her off. But I had gotten a few signals that, fiancé or not, Grace might not be completely opposed to that–at least not physically. Need was pumping through my blood and I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

The ride went quickly as we both watched the scenery go by out the window. As I pulled in to Summerlin, I glanced at Grace and she was chewing on her lip again.

"What are you thinking?" I asked quietly. The mood between us had shifted.

She was silent for a minute before she said, "It's probably better if we don't see each other again."

"Better for whom?" I asked, a mixture of anger and fear filling my chest.

She looked at me. I could just make out her tense facial expression in the dark cab. I pulled up in front of her house and kept the engine idling.

"Better for me," she said. "Spending time with you tonight, it's brought up…" she trailed off.

"Brought up what, Grace?" I asked quietly, moving closer to her, her words making the anxiety in my chest fade slightly, hope taking over.

She closed her eyes for a couple beats. "Don't."

I stopped. "Don't what?"

Her eyes opened and we stared at each other. "Just don't," she whispered.

"Call it off, Grace," I ground out, suddenly filled with intense possessiveness and purpose. Why would fate bring us back together only to have us part a second time? I didn't want to say goodbye to her again. There were reasons I should, I knew that. But all the reasons other than her damn fiancé seemed far away and unimportant.

She choked out a bitter sounding laugh. "Call it off?" she repeated.

"Yes, your engagement, call it off," I said, moving in closer and putting my hand on the back of her neck and pulling her face in to mine. Her eyes moved down to my lips.

"Stop," she whispered, sounding desperate, her voice cracking.