10. Jack #3
“Oh, that? That’s my new beer fridge. What do you think?
” I lied, loving how her face went from disbelief to panic to rage.
Her hands fisted as she prepared to rip me a new one.
Of course, I hadn’t actually touched her stuff.
The little fridge was organized within an inch of its life with different lotions and shit, and I didn’t want to touch anything and have to puzzle it back together.
“If you took out my products, so help me, I’ll—”
I egged her on, aware I was walking a fine line. “Take something else of mine? That’s a pity, because it makes a perfect beer fridge.”
She held her ground, something else I was becoming more and more responsive to. “You’d better be joking. That’s my skin care routine. Those antioxidant face masks are temperature dependent.”
“Joking? Like how you filled my cabin with balloons?”
She doubled down, feigning innocence. “What makes you think I had anything to do with that little prank anyway?”
“Because it has you written all over it. So answer me this, Nat: did you or did you not take my favorite T-shirt and hang it on our flagpole today?” That shirt and I had been through some things. “I got it down earlier, but I demand recompense. For my pain and suffering.”
She scoffed and went up on her tiptoes to look me in my eyes. I leaned down. Fuck, she was cute.
“The only thing you’re getting is a swift kick in the—”
“Oh, now we’re negotiating?”
This was going better than I could have imagined. She squared up to me. She was direct and unapologetic as she stared me down, just like she’d done in the craft cabin when she’d requested a new AC unit. My blood felt ready to boil, but not from anger.
Surprisingly, I couldn’t fight the grin on my face as I glanced down at her pursed lips.
They were pretty lips. Pretty lips that her tongue just swiped across.
And was she biting her bottom one? My brain went offline as I pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, my fingers remaining on the curve of her jaw as her eyes fluttered closed.
“What are you doing?” There was something like curiosity in her breathy tone. Not hatred, not reprehension, but maybe interest.
The images that flooded me took hold and wouldn’t let me breathe. Her hands around my neck, my lips on that sweet skin, my tongue licking her lower lip, asking for entry. All of it was a rapid-fire bombardment I didn’t need.
Nat’s cheeks were pink. Was she thinking what I was thinking, too?
I dropped my hand and rushed inside. The need to put some distance between us, and quickly, was staggering.
I unplugged her little fridge and brought it outside, placing it in her outstretched hands, careful not to touch her this time.
If I touched her, I’d want to keep touching her, and that was beginning to be a problem.
I met her eyes, not sure what I wanted, not sure what I needed. “Here. It’s exactly as you left it.”
She held the pink fridge close to her chest like a shield. “We’ll see about that.”
Then she turned and set it down on the banister to look inside. Relief flooded her face as her shoulders went down, and she let out a soft sigh when she faced me. Her venom was diluted as she noticed her lotions and serums, or whatever, were all perfectly intact.
She huffed, looking at me as if she were going to lay into me again. Only she didn’t. She stood there, eyes boring into mine. Why was she still here? What was she waiting for?
I let the silence between us hang a moment before I opened my door wider. It looked like an invitation. Now that would be stupid. I grabbed the doorknob and hastily pulled it closed, opting to step out onto my porch instead.
Nat didn’t give me room to step out. Instead, she stayed put and made me close the distance.
She ran her manicured nails through her hair, and the pink sparkles showed through her loose brown strands as she moved them off one shoulder, revealing the expanse of her sun-kissed neck.
I could almost feel her warmth under my lips as I imagined playfully nipping and sucking on her neck.
Running my hands through all her beautiful hair as I teased and kissed her. Shit. She was becoming an addiction.
“What are you staring at, Jack?”
“Nothing good,” I admitted. But like her, I didn’t move away. I liked that she was within arm’s reach. I liked seeing her faint freckles this close and the distinct striations in her warm brown eyes.
Again, I debated leaning forward, letting her sweet honeysuckle scent entrance me, wondering what it would be like to press my lips to hers. But I knew better.
We didn’t say anything for a long moment. Or maybe it just felt long. She shook her head and finally took a step back, turning to leave. Then she froze and turned back around.
My heart galloped. I was in trouble. Real trouble. “What are you doing?”
I swallowed hard and reached for the doorknob behind me, prepared to let her in.
Her eyes softened. Her whole demeanor changed.
But instead of closing the distance between us, she scooped up the cute little fridge off my banister.
I’d completely forgotten about it. But once it was in her arms, she turned and left without another word.