Chapter Ten
PAISLEY
I could hear the rushing whoosh of my pulse racing through my body.
My breath was short, and my lungs felt tight.
Meanwhile, my entire body was tingling with awareness.
I could feel Russell's retreating form as he moved farther away. It felt like we were two magnetized forms in space. Everything in me wanted to turn back, to follow him and demand an explanation for why he’d kissed me the other night.
I wasn't blaming him entirely for that kiss.
It was a two-way street. His head dipped down, and I leaned toward it.
I had been powerless to stop it from happening.
And now I was mad at him all over again.
Because it shouldn't have felt so good. I was confused and annoyed.
I'd known I was attracted to him before, but then he had to go and be such a good kisser. Like ridiculously good.
Meanwhile, I felt foolish because I didn't want to be this attracted to him. I had to find somewhere else to stay. I’d even asked Maisie about it yesterday morning, but she had no suggestions, like none. Neither did Janet. Fuck, fuck, fuck my life.
I stomped my way back to the small tent I shared with Phoebe, relieved to be working today. We’d be flying out soon because we had the fire mostly under control. Once we finished clearing a perimeter around it, air support would fly over with flame retardant.
The lodge had been burned to a crisp. We were coming into the end of fire season.
Come fall, when people were hunting or camping, inexperienced people made bad decisions.
No one had set this lodge on fire, but someone had a campfire nearby.
There were the usual reasons for accidental wildfires in the backcountry, and Alaska was no exception in that regard.
Campers being careless where they shouldn't was more common than it should’ve been.
I shook my head, ate a breakfast bar, had some kick-ass coffee, and then settled in for a hard day of work. I was worried because tonight I would be returning to the place I shared with Russell. Even though we only shared the kitchen, it felt way too close for my comfort.
At least I had the excuse of being exhausted when I got home that night.
When I walked in, Russell was making some food in the kitchen, so I waved on my way upstairs.
After taking a long shower, I was annoyed with myself for feeling so aware of his presence.
It was ridiculous. He wasn’t even on the same floor, and I locked the door. I needed to just forget he was here.
I was freaking starving, so I ordered pizza and camped out by the windows to wait for the delivery. I hurried downstairs to meet the guy at the doorway. I thought I’d escaped dealing with Russell, except when I walked back into the entryway, he called out, “Avoiding me?”
I peered into the kitchen, shaking my head. “No. I’m just tired. I’m gonna have pizza upstairs. Is that a problem?”
“Nope, not a problem,” he said with a shrug.
I scurried upstairs. I could’ve sworn I felt his presence chasing me up there. He was in the building, he was big, and his presence was potent. I ate pizza by myself. But I didn't have anything to drink, so I had to go down to the kitchen. I tiptoed my way down, relieved when he wasn't there.
My luck evaporated. I was filling a glass of water when I heard his footsteps on the stairs. “Fuck,” I whispered.
A second later, he entered the kitchen. He put a plate and a glass in the dishwasher. The room was silent, and the space felt loaded as if a charge was hovering in the air and about to go off. I turned, and my eyes locked with his gaze immediately.
“How's it going?” I asked.
"Fine. We're heading into the quieter time of year as far as work."
I nodded. "Yeah, we are." The winter season was much quieter for hotshot firefighters. "How does it work in the winter around here?"
He shrugged. "We help out with any town calls, do backup for nearby areas, that kind of thing."
I didn't realize I hadn't responded until he asked, "You forgot to get some water?" His lips kicked up at one corner with his question.
It felt as if a thread connected us—his half-grin spread into a full one, and I felt a tug low in my belly.
I literally felt his grin in my cells. I was suddenly breathless and tingling all over, but I managed to nod, feeling a little sheepish and hoping it didn't show.
“I'm just going to go finish my pizza now.” I scooted past him and practically ran up the stairs, feeling ridiculous about the whole thing.
I doubted he was as affected as I was by our kiss. Later on, I fell asleep, once again restless.
The following morning when I saw Russell in the kitchen, I was feeling contrary.
“Good morning,” he greeted me when I crossed over to get a yogurt out of the refrigerator.
I felt obliged to respond. “Morning,” I replied curtly.
“Is this how it's going to be?” he asked as I started to walk out.
“What do you mean?” I snapped, turning back to face him.
“This, the silent treatment,” he clarified.
I shook my head. “I'm not giving you the silent treatment.”
Russell stared at me, and it felt as if his eyes were boring through me, reading into all of my uncomfortable feelings. He somehow knew how unsettled I was by that stupid kiss and how it left me in a perpetual state of arousal and frustration around him.
“Really?” he drawled.
I narrowed my eyes. “Really. Do you hear me talking right this second? That’s not silent.”
He leaned his head back, letting out a dry chuckle before he brought his gaze to mine again. “I do hear you, but I think you're full of shit.”
I rested a hand on my hip. “I'm not full of shit.” My common sense had apparently fled the room because I moved to stand in front of him and actually wagged my finger at him. “I am not giving you the silent treatment,” I said, enunciating each word carefully.
“Was it that kiss?” he asked.
Just hearing the word “kiss” aloud set little bonfires alight in my body. I took a breath, letting it out in a huff and wishing I could be all cool and nonchalant like him. “No, it's not that kiss. Although, for what it's worth, that was a mistake. I'm sure you'll agree with me.”
He stared at me, and I wished I could read his mind.
Something flickered in his eyes, but I didn't know how to interpret it.
I didn't really know Russell all that well.
I'd only been in town a short while. What little I’d been able to gather about him was that he tended to keep things casual with women.
I wouldn't even call him a flirt because he wasn't. He didn't even have to be.
He was so good-looking, it didn't matter.
He was like honey to bees, him being the honey and women being the bees.
And me. Apparently, I was a bee. I let out another huff, annoyed at my train of thought.
“What?” he pressed.
“Nothing,” I snapped.
“I don't think the kiss was a mistake.”
His words startled me, and my eyes flew wide as my mouth dropped open. His lips kicked up into a grin, and those bonfires spun in pinwheels through me as my belly executed a flip. I swallowed. “What?” My question slipped out in a whisper. I wasn’t even sure what I was asking.
“Just what I said. I don't think that kiss was a mistake. It was a great kiss.”
I felt as if he were daring me to argue the point.
And, God help me, I never could resist a dare.
I grew up with an older brother and spent most of my childhood trying to outdo him at every little thing.
Maybe my brother had completely fucked his life up right now, and I was mad at him, but when we were little, I'd wanted to beat him at everything. I looked up to him that much.
I narrowed my eyes. “What is your point?”
“If that kiss was such a mistake, I dare you to kiss me again.”
Oh. My. God. “You're daring me?” I sputtered, shocked.
He said the word aloud. “Yeah. If it's no big deal, just kiss me and prove that that kiss was bad.”
“I didn't say that kiss was bad,” I retorted, my words getting ahead of my brain. His grin spread to the other corner of his mouth. “That wasn’t my point,” I muttered, flustered with my reaction to him. “I said it was a mistake. That's different.”
“A good kiss is a good kiss,” he pointed out.
See, he was all cool, talking about that kiss like it was nothing.
It was far more than nothing to me. I was no innocent virgin, but I hadn't had a ton of experience with relationships.
I'd had other priorities. And, frankly, as far as I could tell, most men were a letdown beyond the superficial sheen.
“Whether or not it was a good kiss isn't the point. It was still a mistake,” I clarified again, which promptly annoyed me even further.
I didn't need to keep clarifying that I hadn't said the kiss was bad, but he was implying that I had.
For crying out loud, this was the definition of a conundrum.
Well, that and the fact that I wanted this man.
And it was a very, very bad idea for me to want him.
We worked together, and now we lived together.
Until I found another place to stay, I was in a bind.
He moved a step closer, and I shook my head wildly. “I can't, Russell.”
His gaze sobered immediately. “Can't what?”
“I know this is all fun and games to you, but we work together. I’m new here, and I'd like to keep my job.”
Of course, it only made matters worse when he immediately respected me. “Say no more.” He held a hand up. “I'm sorry. You get under my skin, that's all. Can we at least try to be nice at work? I thought we were getting better for a bit there.”
“Maybe for like three days.” I lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. He chuckled, and my pulse kicked up its heels in response. “I could try again,” I offered, feeling flustered as heat flashed in my cheeks.
“Sounds good.”
I started to turn away again when he commented, “Don’t forget a spoon.”
I snagged one out of the drawer nearby before hurrying back upstairs without another word. I closed my door, leaned my back against it, and let my hips slide to the floor. I ate my yogurt right there. Russell left me in a tizzy.
Not much later, I went in to work, telling myself not to get snappy.
Halfway through the day, I had a phone message from my brother, which sent my mood plummeting.
“No need to heed my earlier warning. Take care. Love you.” The line went dead after that vague and brief message.
I’d been walking down the hallway and stopped to lean against the wall.
“But why don't I need to heed your warning?” I asked my phone, idly wondering why blocking my brother’s number didn’t block the messages. They just showed up on my blocked list, which I freaking checked because I worried about him.
Obviously, my phone couldn't answer my question, and I knew my brother wouldn't tell me even if I asked. My best guess was whoever he’d warned me about was now in jail.
Of all the things I'd worried about when I was growing up, my brother becoming a designer drug dealer had not been on that list. Instead, I'd worried about learning to fly like a bird and if our house was brick. In the category of out-of-the-blue childhood fears, for a while, I was afraid of our house burning down, and I thought bricks couldn’t burn.
I leaned my head back and let out a sigh before pushing away from the wall.
When I heard footsteps and looked up reflexively, my belly did a little jump and my pulse skittered wildly when I saw Russell.
He had a smudge of dirt on his cheek. My eyes soaked him in greedily—the way his muscled arms swung easily, the way his shoulders filled out his shirt, and the way his cargo pants hung low on his hips.
Jesus. I was getting hot and bothered looking at my co-worker slash roommate.
“How ya doin’?” Russell said easily, hopefully oblivious to my ogling.
His tone annoyed me. It wasn't him. It was just that he really wasn't as affected by me as I was by him, and it was so obvious. Well, that, and I was already feeling edgy after my brother's call.
“Fine, you?” I returned, my tone sharp.
Russell's brows hitched up slightly, and his eyes searched my face. “Ah, so that's how it is. Catch you later.” He tapped my shoulder as he walked past me, and I had to fight the urge to shrug his touch away.