Page 45 of Love Affair in London (Once Again #12)

P iper’s flight had gone smoothly. She’d slept for several hours, and the plane arrived on time. The passport line took fifteen minutes, but she had to wait for her luggage and decided to book a ride once she reached the arrivals lobby. A few extra minutes wouldn’t make a difference.

Finally, her bag dropped off the conveyor and slid down onto the carousel. As she moved to pull it off, a U.S. soldier who had been on her flight picked it up for her.

“Thank you so much.” She smiled at him gratefully.

He returned the smile, his ebony features handsome, his camouflage uniform still crisp even after the eleven-hour flight. “You’re welcome, ma’am.”

She liked his respect and appreciated his help. He turned to grab his large duffel from the carousel and was on his way as she pulled up the handle of her suitcase.

Was it the military that made him so polite? Or was his politeness simply innate?

A customs agent called out to him as he passed, “Thank you for your service, soldier.”

The young man waved a hand in acknowledgment.

People waiting for loved ones packed the arrivals lobby.

The soldier rushed to a very pregnant woman, picked her up, and spun her around before setting her back on her feet.

They laughed, smiled, kissed, and hugged.

Piper felt warmed by their joy. And perhaps envious, too, as she maneuvered through the crowd to a clear spot where she could book her ride.

She had her phone out when she heard her name.

And looked up in shock to see Jared striding toward her.

“I called out a few times.” His smile was wide. And dare she believe joyful too? “You must not have heard over all the commotion.”

Her heart wanted to pound right out of her chest. She had the ridiculous urge to throw herself into his arms. But she was too aware of the onlookers, who might think he was picking up his mother. People would look—at her, then at him. Then they’d judge.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice came out harshly, though that wasn’t how she meant it.

He didn’t seem to notice, grinning. “Conrad gave us all the day off. I knew you were on the same flight I took yesterday, so I thought I’d give you a lift.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” His appearance had thrown her off balance.

He reached for her suitcase handle, but she instinctively stepped back. She hadn’t meant to, just as she hadn’t meant for her voice to sound so severe. But he’d surprised her.

“I wanted to.” He tipped his head, as if he was just realizing his arrival had flustered her. “You need a ride, don’t you?”

She held up her phone. “I was going to call a car.”

He smiled, that lady-killer smile that did things to her insides. “I’ll take you home.”

But she didn’t move. “I thought we weren’t seeing each other until Sunday. After your kids went to their mom’s.”

He took a step back. “The kids are at school. They don’t finish for the summer until the end of the week. So right now, I’m free. And there’s nothing I’d rather do than take you home.”

His voice dipped on the last words, and she could hear the suggestion in his tone—something sensual, something sexy.

Her fears roiled inside her. She cared for him far too much, and the inevitable ending would crush her.

Though she’d thought she could handle that, seeing him again—so beautiful and perfect and in his prime—made her realize she couldn’t.

Maybe here, a crowded airport, was as good a place as any to explain why it wouldn’t work between them.

At least she couldn’t cry in front of all these strangers.

“It’s not a good idea for us to see each other again,” she said. “I appreciate you coming to pick me up, but I can get an Uber. Meeting on Sunday doesn’t seem like a good idea.” Even as badly as she wanted it.

His hands dropped to his sides, and he studied her, a frown pulling at his brow. “Why not? We were so good together in London.”

“Of course we were. I loved our week together.” She couldn’t let him think she hadn’t enjoyed every moment. “But it’s not like we thought it could go on.” Her voice rose at the end, betraying her uncertainty.

“I might not have thought that the first couple of days,” he admitted. “But I definitely thought it by Tuesday.” His eyes crinkled with another smile. “And I know you felt something too. We need to explore that.”

“Look, I know we were compatible in bed?—”

“We weren’t just compatible .” His voice was low and rich, not with anger but with a sensual tone that drizzled over her nerve endings like warm syrup.

The sex had been incredible, and she was going to miss it. Absolutely. She could still feel his touch on her skin. But…

He didn’t let her interrupt. “We were fantastic together in every way—visiting all those tourist sites, dancing, and yes, making love. You’re really going to give all that up?”

She thought of their last night in London, the way his coworkers had eyed them, and Kyle’s unintentional remark. “Yes, we danced well together. But didn’t you see the way your coworkers looked at us?”

“They were jealous they couldn’t dance the tango as spectacularly as we did.”

“I’m not talking about the tango.” She sighed. “I mean over dinner. They were all staring, wondering why you were with a woman twelve years older than you.”

He frowned. “You’re imagining that.”

“I’m not.” She shook her head vehemently. “That’s exactly how they looked at us.”

“Your age doesn’t bother me.” He spread his hands, almost pleading.

“Remember what I said? That if our roles were reversed and you were twelve years younger than me, they’d all be patting me on the back for finding such a gorgeous woman.

On the flight home, Conrad called you a winner and said I’d be an idiot to let you go.

And his wife thinks you’re a breath of fresh air.

If anyone disagrees with that, I don’t give a damn. ”

“But I do.” She placed a hand on her chest. “I don’t want people staring at us, questioning us. And the longer we’re together, the worse it’ll get. You know men age better than women. I’m already in menopause.” It didn’t matter that she stated it so boldly; she had to get him to see.

His soft laugh held a sexy note. “You don’t act like you’re in menopause.”

She knew what he meant. Most people thought women lost their libido once they entered menopause. But she certainly hadn’t.

Moving in so fast she couldn’t back away, he cupped her face in his warm, powerful hands. And he kissed her.

If people were thinking she was his mother, that kiss dispelled it.

No one kissed their mother like that. He consumed her, stole her breath, and turned her knees weak until she had to hold on to his arms to keep from falling.

He kissed her until she was limp against him, until her arms could do nothing but wrap around his neck and hold him close.

He kissed her until a moan rose up her throat.

He kissed her until she felt faint with need.

Then he backed off enough to say, “There. I’m sure everybody’s staring now. And I don’t give a damn.”

She couldn’t help but look around. Not one person in the arrivals lobby was watching them. They were all looking up at the monitors, waiting for the first sight of their loved ones, or, if they’d already found them, they were doing their own thing—hugging, kissing, some even crying.

No one was looking at her and Jared.

He leaned his forehead against hers. “Please. Give us a chance. We have a connection. I won’t let that go.”

She had to pull away, or she wouldn’t be able to breathe. “I’m twelve years older than you. How can I even meet your kids? They’re going to look at me like you’re dating their grandmother. After the debacle with Roger’s daughters, I just can’t go through that again.”

He stroked her arms, as if he were trying to soothe her. “My kids will love you if you’re as sweet to them as you are to me. If you listen to them. If you don’t look at them like they’re irresponsible and impolite just because they’re teenagers.”

She felt the weight of his words. But she’d tried hard to understand Roger’s girls; it hadn’t worked.

He rested his hands on her shoulders, but didn’t pull her into another hug. “I know all your fears. That people will stare at us and wonder why I’d want to be with a woman like you. And I’d tell them you’re the most gorgeous, sexy, intelligent, funny, honest person I know.”

She felt herself weaken with that beautiful sentiment. He rushed on as if he sensed her wavering. “I know you’re afraid the kids won’t like you because they’ll think you’re too old. But give them a chance. Maybe they’re not as intolerant as you think.”

Her defenses cracked, realizing she was judging his kids harshly based on her experience. And maybe that was unfair. When she opened her mouth to speak, he cut her off.

“I know you’re afraid that if we stay together too long, we’ll end up like your parents, with me being your caretaker.

But did you ever think it might be the other way around?

Maybe I’ll get sick. Who knows what’s going to happen?

A friend of mine died just a few months ago.

Frank was out jogging—healthy as a horse, we all thought.

But he dropped dead of a heart attack right on someone’s driveway. ”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “I don’t even want that thought in my head.”

He rubbed her arms again. “All I’m trying to say is that you don’t know the future. You don’t know which one of us will end up being the caretaker. Neither of us knows what’s coming. And I don’t want what other people to decide whether we get to be happy. I don’t want to give them that much power.”

Was that what she was doing? Giving other people all the power? Maybe. In some ways. Like caring too much what others thought. But there was still one reality she couldn’t get away from. “But I’m twelve years older than you. And my dad died of Alzheimer’s. It’s in my family.”

“That doesn’t mean you’ll get Alzheimer’s. But if you do, I’d want to take care of you.”