Chapter 10 #2
Just when my problem couldn’t get worse, those long legs, now a little more tanned than the first day they saw sunlight here, move into my field of vision. “Need some help? I could work in the garden...”
I glance at her. Headphones around her neck, the soft pads resting on her collarbones.
That useless T-shirt, tied into a knot at one side, is hugging every curve of her chest, dipping low.
A slim section of belly peeks between the shirt and shorts.
She palms her long chocolate locks, dragging them around her neck.
They tangle and fall over her breast by the headphones, and I slam the axe into the chopping block. “Go back to your writing.”
The words are too harsh. And it shows as shock and a little hurt twist her face.
“Oh, okay. Sorry I bothered you.” Her face falls to something impassive, and she turns and heads back to the outdoor chairs. She rounds the firepit when I release a long sigh.
This girl is going to be the death of me.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Why do you do that bullshit?” I snap at her back.
Arms folded around her body, she spins back to me. Her lips are smashed together as her brows lower and she ponders my words. “Do what, Callum?”
“That.” I wave a hand at her passive posture. Her retreat from something she wanted at the first sign of discomfort. She wanted to garden, but just gave up at the first sign of resistance.
The image of her running from the butterflies springs to mind.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But her hands drop by her sides. As if her understanding doesn’t align with her words.
I stalk to where she stands and tilt her chin up, forcing her gaze to mine with one finger. “This timid-little-mouse bullshit. You like it when the world makes your life miserable, Eve?”
Her mouth gapes.
Hell, I’ve been wanting to say these words to her since the day she arrived here to find herself squared away with a man she’d never met in the middle of the fucking ocean.
With no Wi-Fi, rare cell service, and no way off this rock without me.
A normal person would have a fit about this situation, especially if it was forced on them.
But she swallowed it like a good girl. Simply laid down and let Livvy walk all over her.
“You’re here with me. You don’t want to be. You always do as you’re told?” I bite out.
Her face curls with annoyance.
That’s better.
Her arms snap back over her chest, and she jerks her head sideways, away from my touch. “Don’t touch me.”
“You sure? You like doing what everyone else tells you.”
She gasps. Her breathing kicks up. “You are an utter ass, you know that? To think we were friends!”
I scoff an incredulous laugh. I could never be her friend. Not anymore. Not after the last time I touched her.
“We’re not friends, so get that out of your head right now.”
Hurt claims her face, and she tamps back a sob. I may as well have stabbed her through the heart, by the look on her face.
She takes a step back. Typical.
I’m out of bounds with my behavior. And I laid inches from her last night for hours, willing the feel of her in my arms, her scent that soaked into my shirt, and her timid damn heart that’s sunk its way under my rib cage to be anywhere but near me.
With a grunt, I hang my head, peering up through my lashes as she walks back to the house. Her things sit in the sun where she left them.
Suppose that’s for the best, because if she turned back and handed me my ass right now, that would be the last chink in my armor with this girl.
As it stands, I have spent the last months convincing myself I don’t want anything from her.
From anyone else. No woman would ever need to live through Callum McCreary again.
Not if I can help it.
I walk back to the chopping block, feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet.
Mid-swing, I groan. I took it too far. Serves me right.
Should have kept my distance from the start, not going around telling childhood stories and holding her in my arms mid-panic attack.
Awareness pings through my body at the mere thought of holding her.
The gravel crunches, and I turn too late.
Something hard hits my shoulder. Evie stalks toward me, brown eyes blazing. She stands, shoulders shaking, chest heaving. Her gaze drops to the item that hit me and fell to the ground, and I follow it with my own.
My journal sits open, pages down, gravel dusted over the cover.
I forgot about the old book. It’s been months since I wrote in it. Before Evie arrived, I penned the last entry. The ones in there cover the last three years or so.
“Where is he?” she growls. Her finger points at me and eventually lands over my heart as she closes the space between us.
I glance at the journal.
He?
“Where is the man in this journal?” She glares at me.
“He—I?—”
“The kind, smart, generous man in these pages. What the hell did you do with him, Callum?”
Fuck me.
I can only stare at her. Her fire is stunning.
Brown eyes lit up with more life than most people could ever wish to hold.
It’s all I can do to think of what Evie would be like if she opened up.
Really walked into her light instead of cowering in the shadows like she’s been doing since she got here. Since who knows how long.
She’s so close. “Answer. Me.”
My body vibrates at her proximity. Blood having well and truly left my brain, every drop is holed up south. My cock aches relentlessly. So I do what any man who’s stupid crazy over a girl would do. I wrap my palms around her face and crash my mouth over hers.
She jerks backward, hand flying up and pressing over her mouth.
I don’t move from the spot. Couldn’t if I wanted to.
Which I damn well don’t.
I wait as she processes the line we just crossed.
Her hand drops away from her face and she steps up to me, sucking in a breath. “What was that for?”
“Because I felt like it.”
A beat passes before she responds, “Wrong answer.”
Evie’s eyes burn into mine as she invades my senses.
Her closeness. Her scent, all flowers and spice.
The tension that hangs between us like party lights swinging in the breeze as a storm rolls in to drench the unsuspecting guests.
The glass bulbs, our fragile hearts. The cord, the choices we made that brought us right here in this moment.
She raises to her tiptoes and inches closer, her breath hitting my face. My palms burn to claim hers.
Her gaze drops to my mouth.
Each breath that cycles through me singes a little more than the last.
She raises her hand, fingertips brushing over my jaw. My eyes shutter closed.
“Callum?”