Page 87 of Nineteen Letters

She’s wearing a red silk sleeveless dress that stops just above her knees. It’s simple, yet incredibly sexy, accentuating her luscious lean body perfectly. I’ve always loved her in red. The colour stands out beautifully against her dark hair and olive complexion.

“Wow!”

“You like?” she says, placing her hand over the scar on her arm. I hate that it makes her feel self-conscious.

“I love,” I reply, using my free hand to gently remove hers. Those scars will be a permanent reminder to us both, but they’re a part of her now. “You don’t have to hide from me, Jem.”

She gives me a tight smile. “I love your shirt,” she says. “It makes your blue eyes pop.”

Her smile is worth the time it took to iron. “You bought this for me on our honeymoon.”

“I have good taste.”

“Of course you do: you married me, didn’t you?” She laughs as she playfully slaps my arm. “Oh, I almost forgot,” I say, holding the flowers out to her. “These are for you.”

When her face lights up, my heart sings. That’s exactly the look I was hoping for; it confirms my old Jem is still in there somewhere.

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” I’m transfixed as she brings them to her nose and closes her eyes. My lips curve up when she inhales deeply. “Mmm. The roses smell divine. And I love the purple and yellow together.”

“They have always been your favourite.”

She smiles and moves to the side so I can enter. “Come in, I’ll just put these in water before we go.”

When she turns and walks towards the kitchen, I follow, but I’m instantly stopped in my tracks when I notice the red dress she’s wearing is backless.

Completely backless.

The base stops just above the curve of her perfect round arse. I inwardly groan as I shove my hands in my pockets. Everything in me wants to reach out and touch her—if I can get through the night without doing exactly that, it will be a damn miracle.

We fall into easy conversation on the way to the restaurant, but my mind is consumed by that dress. If she wore it to drive me crazy, she succeeded.

As we exit the car and head towards the restaurant, I instinctively go to place my hand on the small of her back, but I quickly rethink that move; touching her silky soft skin will do me no favours. I feel utterly frustrated … I’ve been aching for this woman for months.

“Wow, this place is beautiful,” she says as soon as we step inside The Sea Shanty. “Oh, look at that row of round windows. They look like they’re off a ship.”

“They are.”

“What a neat idea … such a great touch.” Her comment makes me smile.

Naomi, the owner, walks into the reception area a minute later.

“Braxton, it’s so good to see you again.” She pulls me into a hug, before moving her attention to Jemma. She’s smiling, but I can also see a hint of sadness in her expression; she knows about the accident and everything it took from her. “Hi, I’m Naomi.”

“Hi. It’s lovely to meet you,” Jemma replies, extending her hand, but Naomi ignores it, opting to pull her into an embrace instead. I’m pleased to see Jemma grinning when Naomi lets her go. “You have a lovely place here.”

“We have your amazing eye for detail to thank for that.”

Jemma’s eyes, clearly confused, briefly dart towards me. That look has me internally wincing. Maybe I should have prewarned her. I can only imagine how it must feel to be thrust into a world you’ve forgotten.

In my defence, I was curious to see her authentic reaction, but I’ve also learned over the past few months to ease into things gently with Jemma, otherwise, she becomes overwhelmed.

“Matthew, get your sexy butt out here,” Naomi calls out over her shoulder, “Braxton and Jemma are here.”

Her comment makes me laugh, I love these two, and Jemma did too.

“Where are my two favourite people?” he bellows from somewhere in the back of the restaurant.

His face lights up as soon as he steps into the reception area. He vigorously shakes my hand before pulling Jemma intoa crushing hug. When he finally lets her go, he cups her face in his hands.