Catching Sparks (Cherry Peak Book 2)

I watchPoppy strut her way to the truck with my fingers curled deep into the pockets of my jeans. I’m helpless to the urge to drop my eyes to her ass and watch it sway with each confident, steady step she takes away from me. My throat tightens, lips drying before I glance at the clear blue sky and inhale deep through my nose.

Instant attraction is a curious prospect, but it’s also the most obvious thing between the two of us. It’s a flame lying dormant in both of our chests, only sparked when we’re within arguing distance of one another. I doubt she’d ever admit it to me, and I’m not inclined to ask, but that doesn’t matter. There’s a slippery slope with a dangerous end waiting for us if we ever acted on such an impulse.

The truck rumbles to life, and I use the distraction to pull my thoughts together. A moment later, and I’m back in the passenger seat, dust tickling my nose and gluing itself to my skin.

Poppy moves with an impressive sense of knowledge and grace as she grips the gear stick in a tight fist and adjusts both of her feet beneath the dash.