Her lips twitch, softening at the edges, and in thatmoment, something gentle passes between us…understanding.Maybe she knows what it’s like to be alone, too.
“It’s okay,” she says, barely above a whisper. “You can yell at me as long as you keep making grilled cheese.”
I let go of a sound that sounds close to a laugh, easing the tension in my chest just a bit. Our gazes connect, and for a brief second, I let my guard slip…just a crack. But it’s enough for something new to slip in…something that feels good…like hope.
I slide a plate and a steaming mug her way. “Eat, city girl.”
She devours the sandwich, moaning around each bite, as her eyes flutter shut. Every sound is going straight to my cock, making me shift, trying to arrange the bulge straining against my jeans.Fuck. This woman is going to be the death of me.
“This is the best thing I’ve eaten in weeks. You could open a food truck out here, call it ‘Grump’s Grilled Cheese.’” She flashes me a grin.
“I don’t do business with people,” I say, but my mouth forms a small smile. I can’t help it, not when she looks at me like that.
She talks while she eats, filling the silence with stories about her boss, her apartment, the time she tripped down the stairs in heels on her first day, and spilled coffee on Elliot’s expensive shoes. She makes me laugh, an honest-to-God real laugh, before I catch myself and shut it down. Something inside me is shifting.I’m not supposed to want this. I’m not supposed to want her.
She finishes her food and sips the coffee, sighing like she’s satisfied. “Don’t you get lonely out here?”
My jaw tightens. “No.” But it’s a lie. And I think she knows it, because she lets it go, doesn’t push it.
I notice the way her eyes soften when she looks at me now. I want to touch her, want to slide my hands up her thighs, under my flannel, strip it off, and see every inch that’s hidden.
I want to take her to my bed, press her into the mattress, and make her forget about that city life. I want to lose myself in her, just for a night.
My fists clench, and I force myself to look away. I shouldn’t think like this. She’s young, she’s just passing through, she’ll probably laugh at the idea of staying one night longer than she has to. But the ache in my chest is real, and the heat in my gut burns hotter every time her knee brushes mine under the table.
“Storm is letting up,” I finally say. “Your clothes will be dry soon.”
She nods, but the look of disappointment doesn’t go unnoticed.
The dryer buzzes.
“Saved by the bell!” she sings.
I jump up and grab her things. They are still warm as I hand them over to her, and our fingers brush. The jolt is sharp, making my breath catch.
She heads to the bathroom, and I catch myself watching the sway of her hips, the way her hair tumbles down.
When she comes back out, she looks more herself, but softer, more vulnerable than before.
“I guess I should head back,” she says, hesitating in the doorway.
I want to tell her to stay. Instead, I say, “I’ll drive you. Roads will be slick. No sense risking it.”
On the drive back to town, she goes on about the stars, how they look different in the country than in the city, how she’s always wanted to see a real mountain.
I let her talk and just listen, grunting in response, keeping my eyes fixed on the road. While every muscle in my body is tense with want for her. Every time she laughs, something inside me thaws.
We reach the edge of town as the sun begins to dip behind the mountains; the rain having completely disappeared now. Her stomach growls again, and she laughs, embarrassed.
“Damn, city girl.” I can’t help but chuckle. Nothing wrong with a woman who likes to eat.
“Would it be weird if I asked you to get dinner with me? As a thank you?” She glances over toward me, nervous.
I surprise myself by nodding. “The Cozy Corner’s open. Best pie in town.” She lights up, and it does something to me. I want to see that look every damn day.
“Correction, Grizzly Adam’s…best cinnamon rolls in town.”
Chapter 3
