“No need for that.” She releases a shaky laugh and, right after it, my belt loop. Which leaves me frowning. But when I peek back, I find her swiping her phone screen and searching for something to order. “Have you discovered any favorites since arriving in town?”
“Everywhere has been fine so far.” I use her distraction to pull the tampered breaker apart and fix what I broke. “Why don’t you order one of your favorites? You know this town best, and I’d kinda like to know your preference.”
“Reyes makes delicious burritos.” She taps her screen while holding mine mostly steady. “I’ve been craving one all day, so if you’re open to that…”
“I’m open to it. Get me the beef with beans and all the fillings?” I slip the repaired breaker back into place and pray the house doesn’t light up like Christmas too soon. “Medium spice is good.”
“Not spicy?” Smirking, shetap-tap-tapsand makes her way through the ordering process. “Ryan probably gave you shit forthat, huh? He always thought it was funny to poke fun at anyone who ordered anything less than spicy.”
“Because he thinks to be a man, you’ve gotta burn your taste buds right off?”
She snickers and hits ORDER. “No. He preferred medium, too. But he liked to pretend spicy was important, to see if you’d buckle under peer pressure and order it to save face.”
Locking her phone, she drops it into her pocket and glances up, startling when her nose almost touches my shoulder, and my chin is just an inch from her eyes. She’s not sure whether she moved or I did. If she’s still scared, or if this is a romantic flash in the dark. Hell, her breath comes to a dead standstill, and her brows pinch tight in question, all because I manufacture a moment and make her think it’s something else.
“Uh…”
“Thanks for ordering dinner.” I lower my gaze to her plump lips and examine every tiny movement she makes. Every infinitesimal adjustment of her posture, to see if she’s leaning in or out. If she’s curious enough to throw caution to the wind, or ready to sprint back to the house and lock me out.
For me to complete my job, I need to secure her trust. And to do that, I need her to think she’s making these decisions herself.
“I think I fixed it,” I murmur, sliding my tongue along my bottom lip and swallowing. Like she makes me nervous. Like my heart is pounding, and my entire world revolves around this moment.
Fuck, I’m such an asshole.
“Do you wanna head back inside and test a switch?” I lean half an inch closer. Testing her boundaries but offering her anout at the same time. It’s reverse psychology 101, and the fact that I use it against her makes me feel like shit. “I’ll wait here to see if the breaker pops again.”It won’t. “Leave my phone here, so I have light. You take yours, so you have some too.”
Her eyes flicker between mine as mosquitoes buzz around our heads. “Honestly?” she gulps. “Without sounding like a brainless cliché, I’d rather you walked back to the house with me. If it trips, we can come out together again.”
“That’s fine.” I release the box cover so it lowers on a groaning squeak, then extending my hand, palm up, I wrap my fingers around my phone, and because I’m fast, my fingertips brush over hers, surprising her into a soft inhalation of air.
When I’m done with this job, I plan to walk into oncoming traffic and wait for a Mack truck to rearrange my face. Anything to feel something other than self-loathing.
“Come on.” I grab her hand and start back toward the house. Get her used to touching me. Create that familiarity and reinforce that nothing horrible will happen just because she lowers her guard a little. “Are the mosquitoes always this hungry around here, or was this summer particularly nasty?”
She exhales a soft laugh and allows me to hold her all the way back to the house. She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t twine her fingers with mine, either. That’s where her boundary lies. “The mosquitoesalwaystarget me. I can’t tell the difference between this year and every other.”
“I mean… youdosmell tasty. We can hardly blame them.” I inch closer and sniff. “Perfume and sweat, all wrapped up in one.”
“Oh, God!” She shakes herself loose and smacks my arm, stomping back up the porch stairs. “I haven’t had a showersince I got home. Pointing out that I’m sweaty means you think I’m smelly. That’s not kind at all.”
“I didn’t say you smelledbad.” I chuckle and drag the wire door open. “In fact, I saidtasty. Though I find it interesting you changed without showering.”
“I wanted to work in the yard for a bit.” Pushing the heavy wooden door open, she steps inside and glances back to make sure I follow. “It was windy, and I felt like an exhibitionist every time I bent over a garden bed.” Closing the door behind me and holding her breath, she hesitantly reaches across and flicks the switch. When light bursts across the room, chasing the shadows away and illuminating her beautiful face, her breath escapes on an exhale of surprised delight. “Oh, thank God!” She cups her cheeks as they warm with a rosy tint. “I’ve never been so happy to have light.”
“Imagine how Thomas Edison felt.” Switching off my phone’s flashlight and catching Aster’s name on the screen, I scowl at his demand for an update. But I ignore it for now, slip the device into my pocket, and rearrange my features. Fuck, I hope Nova Nichols isn’t as observant as her brother wanted her to be. “Kinda heartbroken that I fixed it so easily.”
“Really?” She lowers her hands, and with them, her smile. “Why’s that a bad thing?”
“Because now we’re done, and dinner’s probably not even close to leaving the restaurant. If I took longer, then it would be a matter of ‘well, I’m here, we may as well eat.’ But since it didn’t, staying when I’m not needed feels a little rude.”
She rolls her eyes and snags my wrist, tugging me through the kitchen. “I paid good money for two burritos and a bowl of spicy fries. If you leave now and waste my money,thatwould berude.” She strides across the hall and into the living room. Flipping on another light, she hits me with a beautiful grin, like she thinks each new lit globe is akin to magic floating through the air.
“We can watch TV,” she decides. “Wait for dinner. Reyes is usually quick, and delivery is only another five minutes once the driver has it. Eat fast,” she teases, releasing my arm and snatching up the television remote. “Then you can leave.”
“Well, shit.” I come around the couch and settle at one end of the spacious three-seater. Once again, I allow her plenty of room and a choice to make. If she chooses the other end, then she’s saying ‘stay away’. But if she sits in the middle, then I’m another step closer to drawing her in. “I might just eat really fuckin’ slowly, then.”
Settling back, I make a show of groaning and burrowing into the cushions. But when she plops onto the middle cushion, my groan turns real, and my heart gives an aching thump.
