London Tides: A Novel (The MacDonald Family Trilogy Book 2) by Carla Laureano

Author:Carla Laureano
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Christian Fiction, Inspirational Romance, Inspirational Fiction, Christian Romance
Publisher: David C. Cook
Published: 2015-05-31T22:00:00+00:00

Sarah and Chris said something about heading to a club for live music, but Ian begged off, for which Grace was grateful. She’d not seen any of the film, and from the way Ian had periodically brought her hand to his lips, he hadn’t been any more focused on the screen than she had.

They climbed into a black cab just after eleven, where he immediately reclaimed her hand. “So. Did the night turn out all right after all?”

“You know it did.” She smiled at him in the dark. “I’ve always liked Chris. And Sarah is delightful.”

“I thought you’d like her. And she doesn’t invite just anyone to tap-dance, you know. She liked you.”

Grace threw him a doubtful look. “Maybe before I had my meltdown.”

“Chris’s brother is in the military. He understands. Believe me, no one is thinking anything about it. Other than thinking you’re amazing and brave.”

“You’re biased.”

“That I am.” He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. She leaned against him and let out a long sigh.

Ten years after she left him, she still loved him and he still loved her.

What now?

“Stop thinking,” he whispered in her ear, nuzzling her neck for a second. “We don’t have to make any decisions tonight.”

She let out a low laugh. He’d never struck her as particularly perceptive, but in this, he had her bang to rights. Had their roles reversed so much? He was the planner. She was the free spirit. He’d had his life laid out in front of him practically since birth, even if he’d refused to follow the script for a while. She was a drifter in all senses of the word. And yet there was a beautiful symmetry in the idea of one day at a time.

When at last the taxi dropped them at the curb, he leaned forward to pay the driver, then followed her into the building to Asha’s flat. Grace unlocked the door, suddenly nervous. She turned to him. “Ian—”

The look on his face obliterated whatever she had been about to say. As if of one mind, they closed the space between them in a crushing embrace, lips finding lips, drinking in each other in a mad rush of emotion and desire. Her back hit the door without her fully registering it—she was too focused on his fingers digging into her hips, his mouth devouring hers. She groped behind her for the knob, and they practically fell through the doorway, breaking contact only long enough to slam it behind them.

“Grace,” he murmured as his lips left hers to travel along her neck. She raked her hands through his hair. This she remembered. This never changed. All the pent-up emotion of the night bubbled to the surface, screaming for release.

And then the reality of what that meant washed over her. “Wait,” she whispered. “Ian, stop.”

Her words seemed to hit him like a bucket of cold water. He froze and dropped his forehead against the wall behind her. “I’m sorry, I—”

“No. Don’t say anything for a second.

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