The contradiction is doing things to me that I don’t fully understand.
“You all right over there?” His voice breaks through my thoughts, quiet and a bit amused.
I realize I’ve been staring. Heat floods my cheeks. “Fine. I’m fine.”
“You sure? You’ve gone all quiet.”
Because I’m imagining what it would feel like if you touched me everywhere else the way you touched my face.
I clear my throat. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
You. Your hands. The way you looked at me when you apologized. The way your voice went rough when you said you’d be taking off my bra.
“Nothing important,” I manage.
He glances at me, and there’s something in his eyes that makes my breath catch.
“Liar,” he says softly. “I’ll add lying to your punishment.”
My pulse kicks up. “I’mnot.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Erin.” His voice drops lower. “Your cheeks go pink. You bite your lip. And you won’t look at me.”
I force myself to meet his eyes, even though it feels dangerous. “Maybe I just don’t want to tell you what I’m thinking.”
“Why not?”
Because it’s inappropriate. Because we’re not even married yet. Because I shouldn’t be thinking about the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders when he handled those fighters, or the way his voice sounds when he calls me “love,” or what it would feel like to have his hands on my bare skin instead of just my face.
“Because,” I say primly, folding my hands in my lap.
He laughs, a real laugh, rich and warm. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
We pull up outside the McCarthy house, and he parks, but doesn’t immediately get out. Instead, he turns to face me fully, his arm draped over the steering wheel.
“Tell me something,” he says.
“What?”
“When I said I’d be taking off your bra soon enough—” His eyes are locked on mine, intense. “Did that scare you?”
My mouth goes dry. “No.”
“No?” He leans slightly closer. “Then what did it do?”
I should look away… should deflect. Should do literally anything except tell him the truth. I start mentally counting in my head, but pull myself back to the present. Iwantto answer him.
“It made me wonder when,” I whisper.
The air between us goes electric.
His eyes darken, his jaw tightens. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard.
“Erin,” he says, and my name sounds like a warning.
