"What were you looking at?" he asked.
I glanced out of the window before looking at him again. "The streets," I said. "I like the view from up here."
He stood up and began crossing the room to join me at the window. I missed seeing him stretched out in that chair, but more than that, I wanted him closer to me. I was overwhelmed by his proximity. I could hardly stand to look at him. I shifted to look out the window again.
"That's where I was eating the other night," I said as he came to stand right next to me.
"I know."
I wanted to tease him about the fact that he was jealous of my brother, but I was so dang attracted to him that I didn't want to come across as overzealous. I made myself hold my tongue even though I was on the verge of mentioning it.
"I really hated your brother that night," Isaac said, gloriously reading my mind.
I could not stop a smile from spreading across my face, but I shook my head and rolled my eyes at him as if he was being silly.
"Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I was thinking maybe you thought Liam and I were there together. I mean, you know, not as brother and sister or whatever."
"Why, because I gave him the stank eye?" Isaac asked, making me laugh.
I stared out of the window because, honestly, it was difficult to look at him. He smelled and looked amazing, and it was just too much temptation. I wasn't accustomed to these sorts of feelings.
"It's different than Chicago," I said, changing the subject as I stared out the window.
"I know you said your dad's family lives there," he said. "Do you visit them often?"
"Only once or twice a year now."
"Did you used to go more?"
"Well, I went there a lot when I was little. I lived there, actually."
"Lived there? You? Chicago? When?"
I was amused by his surprise. "When I was a kid," I said. "So maybe it doesn't count. And I was only there for four years, and not even all year round."
"Four years definitely counts. Did your parents just move over there to be near your grandparents or something?"
I shook my head. "They were there for me. My dad's brother had a comedy sitcom in the nineties. It was pretty popular. It ran for seven seasons, and I was part of the last four. The family adopted me, and I—"
I stopped talking when Isaac's face fell.
He sank his face into his hand, letting out a long sigh.
"What?" I asked.
Isaac was silent for what seemed like an eternity but must have been ten seconds. Finally, I reached out and touched his arm—the one connected to the hand that was still covering his face.
"Isaac," I said. "Are you okay?"
He dropped his hand, staring straight at me for a few seconds before reaching out to gently touch my cheek. His fingertips grazed the side of my face with a feather-light touch as he stared intently at me.
"I know you're not the little girl from the Kevin Kennedy show."
"No, you don't know that," I said slowly, teasing him.
His fingers still rested on the side of my face, and they felt like they might cause a spark.
"Is that seriously you?" he asked, inspecting my face intensely.
I nodded. "Samantha," I said. "How's it shakin'?" I added, saying one of my character's catch phrases.
Isaac continued to stare at me like he was flabbergasted. "Shelby, this is seriously too much."
"What do you mean?"
"You. This. You. You're too much. I can't take it." He shook his head. "My family used to watch that show all the time. It's unbelievable to me that you're the same girl. I even had a crush on you back then. I thought you were the prettiest thing I had ever seen. I knew that show was filmed in Chicago, and always imagined myself running into you in the city. Of course, I thought I'd get to be on the show and become a big TV star."
"Dang," I said. "You're about twenty years late."
"Maybe for getting on the show," he said with a shrug. "But not for running into you."
I stuck out my hand to shake his as if meeting him for the first time, and he took my hand but didn't let go of it. He stared at me as he turned my hand in his adjusting it where our fingers could interlace. It took my breath away. I literally felt air leave my lungs, and I couldn't get it back.
Something more was happening between us in this moment. Isaac Charles was looking straight at me, and I was looking straight at him. He held onto my hand like he didn't have any intention of letting me go, and I held him right back. I was confused by how vulnerable I was—afraid of the overwhelming nature of my feelings.
Chapter 10
Isaac and I stood there holding each other's gaze. It was late in the afternoon, and the light from the setting sun came in through the floor-to-ceiling window of his hotel room. We were standing right next to the window, and the golden hues of the sun shone in, making his eyes seem brighter green. I was drowning in desire—completely overcome with it. I had never been so drawn to a man, and it left me breathless and shaken.
He had been talking about the fact that he was a fan of the Kevin Kennedy show, and the next thing I knew, he was holding my hand and looking at me like he was about to kiss me. I had been kissed before, but I had never before wanted to kiss a man this bad. Maybe that was a bad thing for me to admit—that I had allowed certain men to kiss me when I wasn't really that into it—but it was the truth. Every other about to be kissed situation I had been in paled in comparison to what I felt and this moment with Isaac.
My senses were buzzing.
I felt literal electricity at the place where our hands touched, and his gaze—his gaze—it truly cut through me. I felt like Isaac Charles could see straight into my soul.
"Isaac," I said, my voice coming out weak, like more of a whisper, even though I hadn't meant for it to be that way.
With his other hand, he reached up and touched my cheek with the side of his finger. "Shelby," he said with a little smile.
The way the side of his mouth quirked upward when he grinned caused another wave of something to hit me. My knees weakened. It was all I could do to hold myself upright.
"I was wrong earlier when I said you could meet someone in Chicago," I said.
He gave me a curious expression. "What?"
"Earlier," I said. "When you told me all that about your bad experience—I said now that you got it off your chest, maybe you can go back to Chicago and meet somebody and have a normal relationship. I shouldn't have said that. I regret saying that."
The breathlessness in my voice showed how very shaken up I was, and Isaac gave me a sweet reassuring smile as he adjusted his grip on my hand, pulling me a little closer in the process.
"Why do you regret saying it?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. He gave me a wry, knowing smile as he waited for my answer.
"Because."
"Because why?"
"Because I don't think I want you to meet somebody else."
He pulled me into his arms.
He used the hand that had been touching the side of my face and wrapped it around the small of my back, pulling me into his embrace. The front of my body pressed against the front of his and I took in a sharp, unsteady breath of air as I looked up at him.
Our faces were only inches apart.
I blinked, feeling like I could come undone.
His body was firm, and he held me against him. I was still holding his hand, but I was so shaken up that took me a second to realize that my other arm was hanging stiffly at my side. I moved slowly, tentatively wrapping my arm around him and resting my hand lightly on his back. There was only a thin layer of fabric between my arm and his back, and I could feel his muscles through it. He smiled at me and nodded—telling me I had done a good thing by holding onto him.
"Now, what were you saying?" he asked, pretending not to remember.
"You know," I said.
He shook his head. "Were you saying that you didn't want me to run off to Chicago and meet somebody
else?"
I bit my lip shyly. "Unless you want to meet someone else."
Isaac gave me a disapproving expression and shook his head a little bit.
"What?" I asked.
"That's not what I wanted you to say."
"What'd you want me to say?"
"That it would be highly unfavorable for me to meet someone else. That you'd hate it. That you want me all to yourself."
"I don't know if I have the right to say something like that."
He grimaced. "Why not?"
"Because we just met. We've only really gotten to know each other for one day."
"So? Lots of things happen in one day, Shelby. Things change in one day all the time. Worlds get turned upside down. One day, you didn't have Patrick, and the next day, you did. One day, I wasn't born, and the next day I was. Same with you. One day, I was in Chicago, and the next day I'm in Memphis. One day, I didn't know you existed, Shelby, and the next, I can't imagine my life without you."
My senses were already on overload but his words, his delightful words, sent me into a tailspin. I literally lost control of my body. One second, I was standing there in his arms, and the next, I was losing my hearing and my vision. I blinked, but I couldn’t regain focus. I was weak. My body became tingly and limp, and I heard a man's voice gently but firmly calling my name.
"Shelby! Shelby!"
I felt delirious and had the sensations of pins and needles all over my body as I gained consciousness. Confusion washed over me, and I felt like I was in some sort of alternate reality—being tossed about on angry waves.
I looked all around, taking in my surroundings and realizing that I was no longer standing. I was stretched out on a bed, and Isaac was sitting on the edge of it, looking down at me. As soon as I realized what was going on, I leaned up on my side, resting on my elbow.
"Take your time," he said softly, rubbing my shoulder in a caring, comforting way.
I let my head flop onto the pillow again.
"What happened?" I asked.
"I thought maybe you would tell me that," he said, gazing down at me with a kind smile. "Do you normally pass out?"
I glanced around, taking in my surroundings, and feeling like I was still waking up. I took a deep breath, rubbing my face to make sure everything was still in place.
"No," I said. "I mean, I did it a couple of times when I was younger, but it's been a long time. I definitely don't do it on a regular basis or anything."
"Are you feeling okay now?" he asked sweetly.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed right next to me, and he took a hold of my hand, cradling it next to his midsection. His touch made me feel another wave of that same electricity, and I couldn't help but smile. Obviously, his touch was just too much for my body to handle, and it had shut down without my permission.
"I'm fine," I said, resting my head on the pillows and smiling at myself as I began to get my bearings and realize what had happened. "Maybe a little embarrassed, but fine. What did I do? Did I just fall over?"
"No, I didn't let you fall. I was talking to you, and your eyes just went blank and glazed over, and then, boom, you went limp in my arms." He let out a humorless laugh as he remembered. "I thought you were messing around at first, but then I realized you were out." He leaned over far enough to reach out and tuck my hair behind my ear. "You scared me," he said. His gaze met mine after he said it, and I smiled at him.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"Don't be sorry. I just want you to be okay."
"I'm fine," I said. "I can't believe I did that."
"Are you better now?"
I nodded.
"Do you need to eat or drink something?"
"It might not hurt, but I don't think it was a matter of food."
"What was in a matter of?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Probably you." My words came out so quietly that Isaac leaned in, offering me his ear.
"What?" he asked.
"I must have just been overwhelmed," I said. "Maybe I thought you were about to—"
I was so out-of-it that I almost looked Isaac right in the eye and told him I thought he was about to kiss me. I stopped short when I realized I probably shouldn't come out and say that.
"You thought I was about to what?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"Tell me what you were about to say," he said.
I shook my head, feeling embarrassed.
Isaac leaned over me, causing my heart to speed up again. He braced himself so that he could hover over me, and he placed his face right next to mine where his mouth was near my ear. "Did you think I was about to kiss you, Shelby?" His words and his breath on my ear caused my gut to tighten. I had to hold back a whimper.
I nodded.
"I was," he said softly. "Would that have been okay? Did you want me to?"
I nodded again.
"Do you still want me to?"
He paused for my answer, and again, I nodded.
He wasn't looking at me, but his face was so close to mine that I brought my arm up, shimmying it between our bodies until I could reach to touch the side of his face with my hand. I let my fingers fall on him, and this made him pull back enough to regard me. I left my hand on his cheek, marveling at the electric feeling in my fingertips.
"Can I kiss you, Shelby?"
I nodded.
"Say it," he said.
"Say what?" I whispered.
"Say you want me to."
"I want you to kiss me, Isaac."
He gave me a slight smile as he inched closer and closer. The expression in his eyes told me that he had trusted almost no one the way he trusted me in this moment. I told him the same thing with my own expression. I stared at him intently, hoping he understood that I had literally never looked at another man this way. His lips came so close to mine that I could feel them barely brush me. He held them there for a few seconds, agonizingly close, until finally letting them fall onto mine.
His kiss was sweet, warm, and soft, and his lips molded to mine in the most gentle way possible. My head was resting on the pillow, so he had come to me, but I put my other hand on the opposite side of his face just to let him know that he was right where I wanted him. He pulled back just far enough to lick his own lips, and when he pressed them to mine again, I felt his mouth gently slide over mine as he moved, kissing me gently over and over again.
I felt needy, and I let out an accidental whimper that made Isaac kiss me more firmly.
Three or four times, he placed hot, tender kisses right on my mouth, and by the time he pulled back to look at me, I was breathing heavily. I released his face, letting my arms fall to the bed as I stared helplessly at him.
He gave me a little smile as he stared down at me. "You're ever so beautiful," he said.
"You make my heart race," I said.
He smiled. "You make my heart race, too."
"Guess what?" I said.
"What?"
"I want that to happen again."
He grinned and leaned in to kiss me again. I braced myself for the overwhelming desire I knew was sure to follow.
"This?" he whispered with his mouth right next to mine. He didn't give me time to answer before he pressed his lips to mine again. This time he didn't just let our lips touch. This time, he pulled my lip into his mouth, taking it gently into his and letting his tongue brush against it. I tilted my head upward encouraging him to do it again, and he did, pulling my lip into his mouth even further this time.
I wrapped my hand around the back of his head, lacing my fingers through his hair and pulling him downward, asking him to get closer, stay with me, keep kissing me. I opened my mouth to Isaac, and he answered by kissing me deeply.
In those few heated, passionate seconds, Isaac kissed me like I belonged to him. His kiss was searing hot yet altogether tender and thoughtful.
It seemed all too soon that he broke the kiss and pulled back, repositioning and sitting up next to me. He looked at the ceiling before sigh
ing and rubbing his own face with his hands. I wished he had never broken the kiss, but I could tell by his actions that he had to force himself to stop.
I sat up, sitting cross-legged on the bed behind him.
He spoke without turning to look at me. "I don't want to stop, Shelby, but I have to. We have to."
"I know," I said. "It's good. I'm glad."
He turned and glanced at me from over his shoulder, and I smiled.
"I'm not glad," I said, correcting myself. "But I know we had to. I know we needed to."
I reached out and pinched his elbow since it was close to me. That was something I did to my brother and dad all the time because of elbows not having nerves.
"It was fun, though," I added.
His eyes widened. "You think?" he said sarcastically, making me giggle.
"Did you think it was fun?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Nu-uh, I hated it," he said with a completely serious look on his face.
"Fine, I hated it too," I said.
Isaac stood up, offering me his hand. "I guess we both hated it."
I took his hand and got to my feet with a smile. "Yep."
"We better go," he said. "I don't think I should keep you up here. I don't trust myself, honestly."
"I'm not sure I trust myself, either," I said, straightening my clothes even though they didn't need it.
"Then we should definitely go," he said. "Are you feeling okay?"
I nodded. "I'm fine," I said. "I'm a little overwhelmed still, but I don't think it's from passing out."
Chapter 11
Isaac and I saw each other a lot during the next two days. He had to work, but he made it clear that he wanted to spend his free time with me, and I gladly agreed. I was off work at the station, but I stayed busy while he was working.
I invited him to come to church with me that following Sunday. My family had plans to eat at Aunt Rose and Uncle Jesse's afterward, and I told him he was welcome to come there as well.
For years, my Pa and Nana (Shug's parents) had Sunday lunch at their house, but they were getting older, and for a while now, we'd been doing it different places—at Shug's, or my parents', or Jesse and Rose's—we switched it up. This Sunday, we happened to be going to Aunt Rose's.
The Harder They Fall (Bishop Family Book 7) Page 7