I tilt my head. “You want me in the bed with you?”
Her face goes red in the lantern light. “No.”
“Then don’t challenge me.”
She opens her mouth to fire back, but another gust hits the cabin and the temperature seems to drop. Her shoulders hunch slightly, the flannel doing its best but not enough.
I take a step closer. “Go.”
Her eyes flare. “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop acting like you’re not…” She trails off, jaw tight.
“Not what?”
Ellie swallows. “Not tempted.”
I let my mouth tilt, just slightly. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m tempted.”
Her breath stutters. “Then why are you acting like you don’t want me?”
The question hangs there, raw and reckless, like she threw it without thinking.
The lantern light catches the wet shine in her eyes, the flush on her cheeks, the way her lips are parted like she’s waiting for me to ruin her.
I step in close, close enough that the front of my shirt brushes the flannel. Close enough that her body goes still like it’s listening.
My voice drops to a rough whisper. “I’m acting like I won’t ruin you.”
Ellie’s throat works. “Ruin me.”
“You’re already cracked,” I say, honest and sharp. “Someone’s been squeezing you until you thought you had to run. If I touch you the way I want to, you’re going to shatter.”
Her eyes flare with anger. “Don’t talk to me like I’m breakable.”
I lean closer, letting my breath fan over her mouth. “You’re not breakable. You’re volatile.”
Her fingers curl on the counter behind her. “Wyatt…”
I don’t touch her. I make her feel it anyway.
“You want me?” I ask.
Her eyes flick down to my mouth. Back up. “No.”
I smile, slow and dark. “Liar.”
Ellie’s chest rises sharply. “I’m not your?—”
“My wife?” I finish for her, and the word is a blade and a promise all at once.
She hates how it lands between us.
“I’m not,” she whispers.
“You are,” I say, and I let my gaze drag down her body in my shirt. “You’re wearing it like you belong here.”
