“Me being shirtless bothers you. Makes you think about how hard my muscles felt when you were clutching me.”
Why does he have to be so Jonas? I tip my chin. “You being half-dressed doesn’t affect me at all.” If lying was a sport I just crossed the finish line in first place.
“Brace yourself.” He falls in step beside me as we walk toward the house. “You’re in a for a long week of hard riding.”
I pause on the porch and glare at him. “I’ve made it clear you’re not getting a taste of me.” I jab my finger into his bare chest for emphasis.
He rubs the spot. “I meant that Kaden is doing a junior rodeo in a couple of weeks, and I told Marshall that you and I would help him practice.”
If the porch had a hole I could fall into and never have to see him again, that would be great.
“You were thinking of me tasting you?” His voice is low. Sexy.
“No.” I’m really good at this lying sport.
“Sure,” he says, sweeping open the front door with a flourish.
I squeeze past him into the living room. It’s an inviting space with an oversized sofa, western throw pillows, and colorful decor. An oval rug covers most of the floor between the sofa and two recliners.
The stone fireplace has a hand carved mantel lined with photos of their wedding. Their children as babies. Frances and Gavin’s wedding anniversary party. Last year’s Fourth of July barbecue. Fall pictures in a pumpkin patch. Christmas morning around the tree.
Her place always has a filled-with-love vibe and a pang of wishfulness grips me. And for a few seconds I wonder what-if. What if I could have a home filled with people I love that love me back?
Like he gets where I’m coming from, Jonas says softly, “Those pictures are loaded with love.” With what sounds suspiciously like a sigh, he leaves to carry my suitcase to the bedroom where I’ll be sleeping.
After he returns, still shirtless, I avoid looking at his too-fit-for-my-sanity-body and say, “If you had seen the schedule, you’d know I mentioned I can’t cook so tonight’s meal as well as meals this week will be?—”
“I can cook.” He disappears for a second time and returns wearing a dark blue T-shirt.
I hate that I’m disappointed his abs aren’t on display now. I hate having thoughts I shouldn’t think and emotions I shouldn’t feel.
“I’ll change clothes and assist you.” I quickly dart into the bedroom to change my clothes, pull my hair back into a ponytail and take a few minutes to collect myself.
“What can I help with?” I ask once I rejoin him.
Jonas glances up and indicates a row of various peppers along with tomatoes on the kitchen island. “You can chop those.”
I get out the cutting board, grab what looks like a decent knife, and go to town hacking the hell out of vegetables. Take that shirtless Jonas. If only it were that easy to chop up the lust monster and the strange way I’m feeling.
“Those are too big.” Jonas comes up behind me, his breath against my ear, his body brushing mine. I nearly cut myself with the knife, but he pulls my finger away in time. “What are you doing?”
“My bandage distracted me.” I can’t tell him he’s the root of the distraction.
He reaches around me for the cutting board and that move presses him briefly against me. I choke off the mmm noise I almost let out.
“Umm…since I’m clearly not much help. I’ll go unpack and just wash the dishes later or something.”
I’m not ashamed to say that I fled to the bedroom. I know my limits. And having Jonas press against me is my limit. It’s the fine line I’ve reached before wanting to tear off my clothes and his and ride that cowboy off into the sunset.
I’m halfway through trying to coral my thoughts while unpacking when Raven calls to check on everything.
“All is well,” I assure her.
“How is it being with Jonas?”
“We’ll survive. If we can keep our body parts off each other.” I tell her what happened in the kitchen. “I wonder if he did it on purpose because he knows I’m fighting hard to keep from jumping him.”
Raven laughs, then says, “He’s a really good guy.”
