That One Moment (Lost in London #2)

Her hand stills on my cuff and she turns to look up at me, propping her arms and head on my chest. Her blue eyes lock on mine for a long, painfully quiet moment. I stroke my fingers down her cheek as I wait on bated breath for her answer.

Finally, she tilts her head and replies with a sigh, “I just see My Hayden.”





THE RUSE


“I think I’m ready,” I say to Bruce as I turn to walk out of my master bath. My jittery nerves could pipe down any time now. I smooth down my black cotton dress that’s smart and hopefully good enough for what Hayden and I are about to go do. After the family flick night drama, Hayden and my reconnection the last few days has been pretty mind-blowing. It’s a new level of intimacy that causes me to daydream about him all day at work. The only thing that’s bothered me is his continual insistence on stepping outside at 11:11 every night. I’ve given him his space to do so, but I have something planned for tomorrow that I hope he’ll be open-minded about and not take offense to. But I’m too scared to tell him what it is quite yet.

As I walk out of my bedroom, I find Hayden stretched out on the sofa in my dark living room, staring up at the ceiling as if deep in thought. He looks like a damn model lying on a beach…except for the clothes part. But thankfully I have a very good memory of what he looks like naked, so my imagination can fill in the blanks.

“You ready?” I ask as Sleeping at Last’s cover song “500 Miles” swells in the overhead sound system.

He turns his head toward me and the look in his eyes makes me stumble. The grey irises swirling around his pupils heat with a longing that causes my smile to fall. The city lights streaming in the windows reveal a tenderness in his expression that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. He stands up slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

“What are you doing?” I ask, surprised by the trembling in my voice.

“Dance with me,” he says, moving closer to me with his hand outstretched.

“What? Here?” I look around stupidly like there are people here to feel embarrassed by.

He nods slowly. “Right here…right now. I want a living room dance, Bunny.”

A fleeting look of sadness streaks across his face, but it’s replaced by a half smile before I can be sure I even saw it. I swallow nervously as he twines his fingers through mine. His other hand slides gently around my waist, stopping at the small of my back. I place my free hand on his shoulder and he pulls me against him so our bodies are flush with each other.

With the perfect measured strum of the acoustic guitar riff in the song, he begins moving us in a slow, gentle dance. We are barely rotating, but we’re swaying just enough to swirl the emotion of the music straight into my heart. The familiar scent of sawdust and Hayden invades my nostrils and I tuck my face into his chest, relishing in his entire aura that feels custom-created just for me. The song fills the room and our souls, touching us in every crease and crevice hidden to the rest of the world. In this moment…we are one.

After a few more sways, he crouches over enough to press his cheek to mine. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers. His voice catches just as he tucks our clasped hands between our chests.

My eyes prick with tears at the blatant display of vulnerability in his voice. “You too,” I reply because I am too electrified by him to think of anything more original. We’re shrouded in our own little cocoon of affection, and everything he says and does is unexpected in the most magical way.

“You are a dream, Vi.” He nuzzles into my ear, inhaling deeply as he smells my hair and that spot just below my ear. He drops a soft kiss right there and says, “Every part of you feels like a dream.”

I suck in a shaky breath, remaining silent as he continues to move us in calming sways. I swear I can feel his chest shuddering beneath mine, but I’m frozen in silence, my voice refusing to speak up. I have no words because this moment isn’t meant for filling with obligatory exchanged words. This moment is for listening and accepting whatever grey storm he’s got brewing in those stunning, cloudy eyes. He needs me right now and it makes my heart split down the centre completely, and I pray to God that Hayden Clarke will be the man to give me his other half. Two halves, making one whole.

When the song ends, his hands are in my hair and his lips are pressed to mine, soft and sweet, passionate and meaningful. His demanding tongue caresses my own as his fingers rub along the back of my neck. Just when I think my legs are going to give out, he pulls away. My eyes flutter open with slow blinks. I feel lightheaded and dizzy as he rests his forehead to mine and says, “I’m ready.”




Thirty minutes later, we’re standing in front of Welly’s Pub. I’m grateful for the quick walk over because I needed the fresh air to gain some of my senses back. Hayden’s expression is pensive. His introspective mood from earlier is somewhat lifted, but still, there’s something happening beyond his eyes that puzzles me.

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