I wasn’t ashamed to beg for verbalaffirmations. Sometimes a girl just needed to hear how freaking awesome shewas.
Before you judge, I gave out verbalaffirmations in return. Because I was a good friend and a good sister. Andbecause Molly and Vann truly were freaking awesome.
Unfortunately, it was neither ofthem.
“Do I need to get a restrainingorder for you to take the hint?”
Killian stared at me, his mouth justbarely twitching. “We’re neighbors. Our kitchens aren’t even one hundred feetapart.”
I snorted. “And wouldn’t it be apity if you lost your job because you can’t leave mine alone?”
His cocky expression turned into ascowl. “I knew you were green,Delane. But I didn’tthink you were a baby.”
“I’m not taking your bait, Quinn.You might as well leave.”
“The thing about baiting is thatsometimes it takes a little persistence. You’ll give in. I’m not worried.”
I slammed a hand on my hip,remembering that I hadn’t changed into professional clothes yet. The weatherstill sizzled around the temperature of the sun, so I’d worn loud, yellow,flowery high-waistedshorts because they were every girl’sbest friend, and a navy blue lacy crop top.
“I’ve got work to do, Killian. Whatdo you want?”
He stepped inside the truck butdidn’t come further than the entryway. “I wanted to…” He took another steptoward me, his gaze catching on the simmering pan. “Are you reworking yourgravy?”
I swallowed against the offendedlump in my throat. “No.”
He sniffed the air and moved closerto me. “Are you sure?”
“This isn’t gravy,” I lied to him.“I’m trying to figure out your shortbread recipe.”
His low chuckle slid over the backof my neck and whispered down my spine. “You could have just asked.”
I whipped around to face him, jumpyfrom feelings I shouldn’t be having. “And you would have given it to me?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
I wasn’t planning on making my owndesserts, but I wanted to test him. “Okay, give it to me.”
“What do I get out of it?”
“Who says you get anything out ofit?”
He held my gaze, his mouth quirking atone corner. Good grief, he was unfairly hot. Molly was right about that.
Standing this close to him indaylight I could finally check out his tattoos. And I did, uncaring if hecaught me staring. We were well beyond polite shyness.
An anatomical heart had beenstrikingly etched on the inside of one forearm with a giant, bloody butcherknife piercing its center. Celtic designs wound around the rest of the spacedisappearing underneath the sleeve of his black t-shirt. On the other forearm,a large compass stretched from the inside of his elbow to his wrist, filling upalmost the entire space. Instead of arrows pointing toward the directionmarkers, kitchen utensils had been cleverly used. A spatula pointed west, and awhisk pointed north, like a clock telling time.
He crossed his arms over his chest,breaking the momentary spell his tattoos had put on me. “That’s how we playthis game,Delane. You give me something. I give yousomething.”
I blinked at him. “We’re not playinga game.”
“Are you sure?” His tongue sweptover his bottom lip, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from mimickinghim.
“Yes,” I told him firmly.
“Try it,” he suggested. “Ask me forsomething. I’ll tell you what it costs.”
“So how do I stop you from giving meany more unwanted advice?”
