I breathed in, and the scent of Onyx filled my lungs. My mouth watered. I wondered if he knew what his smell did to me. If he knew that the way he stood near yet so darn far away made me weak in the knees. It turned me into molten lava mush on the insides, and I was more than aware that it was just the two of us in the cold garage.
All alone.
Again.
“That looks great, snowflake,” he whispered, his voice hoarse at the shell of my ear. The sound and proximity made my skin erupt into goose bumps.
I fought my eyes from fluttering shut.
Working side by side with him the last couple of days had been maddening. Something changed between us after my whole crying-like-a-big-baby thing.
It was easier between us.
A touch familiar.
And even though I tried to beat it into my head that he was not for me, that there was no way he could ever think of me as more than an acquaintance or friend, I couldn’t stop swooning at every sweet and gallant thing he did.
And he did a lot!
Not only was he helping build this thing in one of the most selfless ways I’d ever seen someone volunteer with an incredibly short-notice project that helped raise a great children’s athletic program in our little mountain town, when I knew just from the amount of phone calls and messages he returned on that first day alone that he was more than busy, but there was also the way he treated each volunteer.
From young to old, he treated everyone with nothing but respect and an endless well of patience. Kids of all ages, from elementary school to high school, had stopped by yesterday to help pitch in, in easy ways, of course. He was never, not once, impatient, nor did he ever raise his voice. The thought of his beautiful home filled with kids of his own kept popping into my head, and it only confirmed what I’d already known: Onyx Trejo would be the most amazing dad one day.
If that wasn’t enough, there was how he worked with me. How he talked to me. Touched me at any moment I was within his reach. Geez. I was in trouble of falling harder on my face and giving away my heart to someone who would never, ever want me back.
Unrequited love was one of my least favorite romance tropes, and I wasn’t game to sign up for it. I just wish I knew how to stop myself from liking him even more.Who am I kidding?I didn’t need to stop liking him! Not when I was stupidly falling deeper in love with all six foot two inches of the man.
It was crazy.
Dangerous and completely stupid.
As much as his voice rang in my head about me being too… well, not his type, my stupid brain kept fluttering to the memory of the way he’d been before that moment.
We’d been flirting.
Truly and genuinely.
And it had been two-sided.
Or maybe I’d been gullible and naïve enough to believe that’s what it had been? And maybe that’s why his words stung so much, that when I saw him at the store and heard him go on some Neanderthal talk about women not being able to run a hardware store, I’d kinda snapped when he’d asked for paint.
Our little flirtation had been a means to an end for him. I was almost positive he was like that with every female patron at the brewery. Not that my friends or I had seen him chat a woman up again past asking for her order after that night. Lola swore he was interested in me and that whenever they talked me into stopping by on the rare night off, he’d watch my every move.
But Lola was… well, a hopeless romantic. I swear, as a librarian, she had her nose stuck in a book, and I’m pretty sure the woman probably had ink in her veins from how much she loved to read. I always chalked her observation up to the fact she saw the world through rose-colored glasses and romanticized things too much since most of the books she read for fun were usually guaranteed a happy ending.
I just had to get it through my thick skull that Onyx wasn’t interested. And maybe that’s why his words had stung so much, that he’d flirted with me before I heard him say something awful about me, but that was all it was. A flirtation. He’d been charming for one reason and one reason only: to sell drinks. The sooner I remembered that and engraved it into my brain, the better.
“Snowflake?” His deep voice snapped me out of my head, and I turned just in time to feel his big, warm hand cup my hip.
Well, that was new. He’d kept his hands mostly to himself the last three days. Our fingers brushed here and there as we’d worked together cutting wood and carrying things, but he hadn’t full-on touched me. And my traitorous body craved more. Our eyes connected, and mine widened at how close we really were.
“What?” I whispered, a little breathless. His eyes almost smiled.
“That looks great,” he repeated, his chin jutted towards the candy cane I was painting stripes on.
“Oh… thank you.” I licked my lips. Immediately, I felt his overheated and slightly intense gaze drop to my mouth. My lips tingled. His thick thumbs stroked my hip. The caress felt soothing and relaxing.
“Looks really good.” His voice sounded scratchy, and it made my skin flare with goose bumps. My face felt hot.Who am I trying to kid?My entire body felt way warmer than normal when I was around Onyx. “You could have been an artist.” His words might have been sincere, but I rolled my eyes and snorted.Sexy, goofball! Snorting’s going to make you so much more appealing.
