He moves closer to the vehicle, eyeing me somberly. I wish he’d just go, leave me to my own devices. But everything about our two interactions has shown me he’s not that kind of man.
My keys clang as I reach for them, trying again with the ignition. I turn it, but the engine doesn’t crank over. Nothing. I try again and again. “Please, God. Not now.”
Ambrose raps gently on the window, and my hand goes reflexively to the roll-down button before remembering I can’t. Frowning, I crack the door open a few inches. “My car’s not starting. Happens sometimes. No big deal.”
He frowns, leaning down. “Let me take a look. Pop the hood.”
Turning on his cell phone flashlight, he sticks it to the hood of the car. Apparently, his case has a built-in magnet. He tinkersaround for a long moment as I hold my breath. Finally, he grumbles, “Alternator’s bad.”
“Oh no, what do I do?”
He straightens, eyeing me warmly. “I can give you a jump tonight, but you’ll need to get it into a mechanic first thing next week. If you need a tow, let me know.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Glad I could be of service.” This man lives for helping others. It’s written in the authentic warmth of his words. Trying to act like I don’t need him is not only stupid, but also mean. I’ve probably triggered him as much tonight as he’s triggered me.
Pausing and looking up, he studies me for a moment, eyes darker than the night around us. “You know, you don’t have to keep doing this all alone.”
I frown. “Maybe not, but I’m stubborn.” I say it like it’s a sin.
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that.”
“What do you mean?”
“The cat. The auction. The car. Climbing a tree half-blind without a ladder.” His lips twitch, but his voice is steady, serious. “You think being stubborn makes you difficult. But it doesn’t. It makes you fire.”
My breath catches, his words striking deeper than any compliment ever has. Fire. Not too much. Not a burden. Not too loud or too stubborn. Fire. The word settles inside me like a spark to dry kindling, igniting in places I thought had gone cold.
No one has ever named my stubbornness as anything but a flaw. But in his mouth, it sounds like power. Like worth.
I can’t find words. My chest is too tight, my eyes too hot. All I can do is stare at him, caught between wanting to run and wanting to burn.
“And,” he says, stepping closer, lowering his voice until it vibrates through me, “it’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”
He wipes his forearm across his forehead, the beam from his phone flashlight catching the hard line of his jaw. For a second, he just watches me, and it’s too much … his size, his steadiness, the heat rolling off him in waves.
Striding back towards me, he opens the car door, offering me his hand with authority.
“No reason to sit in there until we get that engine started.”
I nod, vulnerability coursing through me as I lean back against the car. No fans. No stage. No car between us.
His arms fold across his chest, wide and sure, like he’s holding himself back. “I meant what I said, Catalina. That fire of yours? It drives me crazy.” His gaze dips to my mouth, then back to my eyes. “I want you to know that before I do this.”
Before I can ask “Do what?,” his arms are around me, pulling me flush against him. My breath stutters, heart jackhammering as his lips cover mine.
The first touch is soft, reverent … like he’s giving me a chance to push him away. God help me, I don’t. I melt into it, into him, into the press of solid muscle and the scent of sandalwood and summer heat that refuses to vanish despite the changing seasons.
He deepens the kiss, and suddenly it’s not soft at all. It’s hunger. It’s need. It’s everything I’ve been pretending I don’t want.
His mouth claims mine with fierce tenderness, like he’s been waiting all night, maybe his whole life, to finally taste me.
My fingers tangle in his hair before I know what I’m doing. His hand slides down to my thigh, rough palm squeezing, and I gasp into his mouth. He swallows the sound, and the kiss burns hotter, stealing the air from my lungs.
This man may be dangerous to my heart, but he feels like the safest place I’ve ever been.
His calloused hand drags higher, the kiss scorching hotter.
