“What did I just say about making jokes?” His hands drop to my waist again and he pins my hips to the wall.
Strands of electricity zip from his fingertips to my core and I have to fight to stay still as I force a shrug. “Hey, I can’t help it if I’m funny. Maybe I should scrap the whole coffee shop thing and start touring.” Based on how things have been going since Henry had to pull out that might honestly be a better option.
“I could do slapstick. Make falling from ladders and being caught by broody ranchers part of my act.”
Roman’s hands squeeze my hips. “The only person catching you is me.” His gaze narrows. “Besides, I know you, Lola, and you joke and brush things off when you’re stressed, so stop it and tell me what’s wrong.”
I stare at him for a moment, somehow both loving and hating the way he sees right through me, then I focus in on the rolled-up sleeve of his checked shirt. Today’s one is a rusty red and I can’t see a checked shirt now without thinking of Roman. “I’m too short,” I whisper. When he doesn’t say anything, I peek up to see Roman arch a brow, his lips pressed together to stop from smiling.
I shove my hands against his solid chest. “It’s not funny. I can’t reach to put the T-shirts on the wall and the stupid too short ladder’s not helping. Henry’s baby is in the NICU and needs an operation on her tiny little heart, so I don’t have a contractor. The deep fat fryers arrived this morning but the counter they’re supposed to go on hasn’t even been built yet. The coffee shop is due to open in two weeks and I can’t even concentrate because all I can think about is how fucking turned on I’ve been ever since you kissed me!”
My chest heaves with the effort of my rant. Then the fire of a hundred volcanos bursts across my cheeks as my brain catches up with the words that just left my mouth.
Roman stares down at me, dragon breathing through his nose.
One look at his gorgeous, scowling face is all it takes for me to wish I could grab my words and shove them back in my stupid mouth.
He said he wanted this when we kissed in the orchard, but I should have known it was just the heat of the moment. I should have expected it, and yet it still hurts like a bitch when he tears himself away, leaving blue boot prints from the paint over the dust sheets as he runs a hand through his chocolate hair.
Tears threaten, stinging my eyes. I sink against the wall, not sure I can stand without him holding me up.
When he looks back at me, ink pools in his eyes and the muscle in his jaw ticks. “You called Jarred.” His tone is accusing,jealous,and the tiniest spark of hope flickers in my chest.
“Because I knew if I called you, I’d end up saying something mortifying.” Like oh, I don’t know, how I’ve been as horny as the fricking devil since he touched me. “Thank god I was wrong,” I deadpan.
Roman doesn’t laugh, he just tilts his head to the side. “You really want to do this? You and me?”
“Yes.” I don’t need to think about it. I’ve wanted Roman even before I knew what wanting someone meant.
“I’m serious, Lola.”
“So am I.”
We get locked in each other’s stare again. The whole dark and broody thing he’s got going on has me squeezing my thighs together and Roman’s nostrils flare.
“Take off your clothes.”
I jolt and straighten up. “Um, you know I was joking about the whole checking for injuries thing, right? I’m fine.”
“Lola.” He crosses his arms over his chest and waits till my eyes find his. “Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”
The dominance lacing his voice has my heart racing and my hands fluttering to the bottom of my vest. I hesitate though, my fingers playing with the hem as my eyes dart to the front of the shop. The windows are still covered up with brown paper but the door is unlocked. “Here?” I ask.
Roman smirks. “Scared?”
“No.”Yes. But also incredibly turned on. I shift on my feet as my panties dampen.
“Come now, Firebird, where’s the wild child who jumps off cliffs for the thrill of it?”
I tilt up my chin. Roman calling me a wild child doesn’t carry the same scorn as when others do it, but I still reject the label. “Haven’t you heard? I’m all grown up now.”
Roman’s gaze tracks lower. “Oh, trust me, I know.” His hands fall to his side. “You have five seconds to do as you’re told, or I’ll come over there and do it for you.”
My core clenches at his threat and I dart my tongue out over my bottom lip. Images of Roman yanking down my shorts, his strong fingers ripping my panties off flurry through my mind. I don’t entirely hate the idea of him doing just that.
Roman cocks his head, his eyes lighting in realization as he lets out a low chuckle. “Oh, you are such a fucking brat.” He doesn’t give me the full five seconds before he’s crossing the room and tugging my shorts down. The jean material is rough against my thighs and goosebumps scatter over my skin.
I grip onto Roman’s shoulders, my stomach clenching as his hands slip under my vest and tease it up my body.
