More Than Words
Griff
But her own words? They were beyond distracting. They hit like a sucker punch, because I knew exactly what she meant. And God help me, I wanted to be that distraction. I wanted to wrap her up, kiss her breathless, and make her forget everything outside this shop.
But I couldn't. I wouldn't – in spite of what I wanted.
I wasn't supposed to want her – not with a clock ticking on this whole damn charade. I was just passing through – a guy with a wrench and a name she'd soon forget.
But I wouldn't forget her. I'd known this already.
And now, I was rethinking everything. The way she looked tonight – with those windburned cheeks, her lips softly parted, and those beautiful eyes so full of hope – it was enough to break me then and there.
But I would be damned if I'd break her.
She was too sweet, too genuine, and too damned decent to justify a quickie in a storm. Then again, a sly voice whispered in my ear, I wasn't known for being quick.
Fuck.
I stepped closer, telling myself to be smart, to slow the hell down, to slam on the brakes before we careened over the edge. In a low voice, I said, "That's the storm talking."
She turned and looked outside, where the storm was still raging.
Lightning flickered, and the wind howled, rattling the window frame.
But when she returned her gaze to mine, a different storm was brewing in her eyes.
It was the kind of storm that called for soft sheets, slow kisses, and shamelessly naked skin.
Her voice was nearly breathless as she said, "Forget the weather. I don't even care."
It was an easy thought, except I cared, probably more than I was willing to admit. "About what?"
"The storm…the shop…whatever."
It was a lie. She cared plenty, and I damn well knew it . Whatever had happened today, it was messing with her head – and mine, too, because suddenly every hungry impulse I'd been keeping in check came clawing to the surface before rushing straight to my groin.
I wanted her.
Bad.
If I were being honest, I'd been wanting her from the start – and not just because she was so damned pretty and full of life.
It was the way she smiled when she was happy.
It was the way she laughed when she was amused.
It was the way she treated people – whether they were random customers or some guy looking for a sandwich and a job.
I had never been in love. And yet, I couldn't help but wonder if this was how it felt. The idea was laughable, I knew, because for one thing, I'd been here for how long? Not even two weeks?
It wasn't nearly long enough.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to get a grip. And yet, when I spoke, my voice came out raw and rough. "Maisie, let's…" Shit, I didn't want to say it. "Revisit this tomorrow, alright?"
When she blinked, I saw the shift, the shutdown, the flicker of heat in her eyes getting snuffed out by something colder. She took a single step back and cleared her throat. "Oh…right."
I wanted to say something, but hell if I knew what.
She gave a shaky laugh. "Wow, I really misread that. Sorry."
Shit. "Don't apologize." I met her gaze. "You didn't."
"That's nice of you to say, but…" She ran a nervous hand through her damp hair. "Forget it. I mean…I don't want to sexually harass you or anything, especially when you're just working for sandwiches."
Damn it. I wanted to pull her close and kiss away her concerns. "That's not it."
Too brightly, she said, "You don't need to explain. I'm really sorry." She gave another nervous laugh. "I don't know what got into me. Let's just, uh, blame the storm, okay?" And with that, she turned away, clearly about to bolt.
On instinct, I grabbed her elbow and turned her once again to face me. My voice was still raw as I asked, "You think I don't want you?"
"Honestly?" She blew out a long, shaky breath. "I don't know."
"Well, let me set you straight," I said. "It's taking everything I have not to drag you into the back and make you forget whatever happened with the bank."
Her breath caught. "So…why…?"
"Don't I?" My heart was hammering in my chest. "Because I don't want to be an asshole."
"How so?" She swallowed hard. "Like…you don't think it would be good?"
"Oh, I know it would be good." I paused to let that sink in. "Until you came in tomorrow filled with anger and regret."
Just like that, her eyes lit with renewed interest. "I wouldn't." Her lips quirked upward as her gaze smoldered into mine. "And you wanna know why?"
She looked like sweetness and trouble rolled into one, and it was all I could do not to yank her into my arms and kiss away her worries. "Why?"
Her chin lifted. "Because tomorrow's Wednesday."
I blinked. "Yeah, so?"
"So the shop is closed tomorrow. I won't even be here." She gave me an impish smile. "So there."