A strong arm hooks around my waist, cementing me in place. “It’s all right,” Lumberjack says calmly. “He’s with me.”
I don’t usually like men touching me like this. Too… I don’t know… familiar.
But somehow, I do like it. It feels safe. Comfortable.
For no good reason at all, I lean into him.
Like a girlfriend.
Or a complete psycho.
“Take her wherever she needs to go, Travis,” he orders the man.
Travis gives a swift nod. “What about you, sir?”
Sir.
The man with the expensive black expensive car is referring to the lumberjack as sir.
“You’ve already done enough for me,” I say quickly. “I can’t take your car.”
My objection is met with a raised hand.
“I’ll get another ride,” he says. Like he’s used to having the last word.
He steps back, and the warmth goes with him.
Instantly, I miss it.
His jaw tightens. And those misty blue eyes find anything to look at but me.
It feels like coming face to face with a door I didn’t realize was open until it suddenly swings shut.
On cue, he hands over my suitcase.
Then my backpack.
“Careful with this one,” he adds. “It’s housing a good-sized anvil.”
Travis grins and takes both easily, then loads them into the trunk.
The space between Lumberjack and me closes in. Heavy. Crowded with all the things neither of us is saying.
It’s a long, awkward goodbye.
“Thanks,” I finally say, sticking out my hand. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Likewise, Pix.” His hand swallows mine. And the closeness makes me want to hold on a second longer than I should.
I hold my breath.
One Mississippi.
Two—
And because I am me, and patience is the polar opposite of my strong suit, impulse takes over.
I rise onto my toes and, without warning, press my lips to his.
