Chapter Nine Savannah #2
I’m flirting back just as hard, but why the heck not? He’s cute and charming and funny. And if I’m being honest, it’s nice to have a distraction from the rest of my reality, especially the part that includes Blaze Hartman.
He shrugs, a sly look on his face. “Depends. Did it work?”
I giggle again, interrupted by the sound of the oven timer before I can respond. I walk over to the oven door and pull it open. Rich decadence fills my lungs. “Oh yes, that’s exactly what I need,” I murmur. I put the cake pans on the island and look at Tyler.
“I admire your grit,” Tyler says. “And if that smell is any indication, I think I’m really going to admire your baking prowess too.”
I clasp my hands together. “I know I should let it cool longer, but I am so impatient. And I also love cake fresh from the oven, when it’s still a little gooey in the center. That’s my favorite time to eat it. The frosting gets melty, and so does the jam. So good.”
“I agree. I love a gooey middle.” Tyler stands up. “What can I do to help?”
“Um, just pass me that spatula,” I say, pointing to it on the counter as a tiny pang cuts into me.
Blaze never liked eating cake out of the oven. Always said it bothered his stomach.
Jeez, even at our base levels we were never meant to be.
I glare at the cake as if it’s just taken on the face of the bastard I hate to love.
There’s a perfectly nice man standing in my kitchen, a man who is considerate and interesting and engaging. So why do my thoughts have to get knotted up on a guy who made it clear he doesn’t give a damn about me beyond trying to make me feel completely incapable and out of my element?
I’ve just met Tyler, and he already makes me feel safe. But despite everything, something under my skin is still craving the way Blaze makes me feel alive.
Dammit, I hate myself for still wanting that rush more.
A loud knock jars me, and the spatula clatters on the floor, raspberry jam spattering across the hardwood floor.
“Don’t worry about that,” Tyler says. “Go on, get the door. I’ll clean this up.”
“Sorry, I guess I’m just a little jump—” The words die on my lips when I open the door.
An invisible noose tightens around my neck.
Did my thoughts literally manifest him to show up on my front porch?
“Why are you here?” I say, my hand gripping the brass doorknob tight.
“Came over to check on your water pump and make sure everything’s working properly.” He opens his hand to reveal a palmful of rusty nails. “Found these in the pasture. If they mix in with the cattle feed, could be really dangerous.”
My jaw drops. “Oh my goodness. I was just out there earlier and didn’t see anything. Thank God you saw them.”
He shrugs. “Just gotta be real careful.”
“Hey, ah, Savannah, I don’t want to interrupt, but I’ve got to be going.” I flip around, suddenly remembering that Tyler is still here. “Rooster emergency.” He grins, looking from me to Blaze. He sticks his hand out. “How are you doing? Tyler Burgess, town vet.”
Blaze narrows his eyes at Tyler’s hand but doesn’t take it. “You here for business?”
I swallow a gasp. “That’s none of your concern,” I hiss.
“Oh, I was just here checking out the animals,” Tyler says smoothly. “I know Savannah’s got her hands full, so I just wanted to give her one less thing to worry about.”
Blaze raises an eyebrow. “You were with the cattle? Because I just found a bunch of nails out by the pasture.”
Tyler’s eyebrows fly up. “You’re kidding. I didn’t notice anything.” He turns to me. “Savannah, I’m so sorry. I’m glad your friend here found them. He’s right. Hardware disease is really serious.” He looks at Blaze. “You just might have saved a few of those cattle.”
Blaze doesn’t respond. He just stares at Tyler.
“Okay,” Tyler says with a wide smile. “I’ll check in on you again soon, Savannah. Sorry I couldn’t stick around for that cake. It smells like a real work of culinary art.”
Blaze leans back against the wall with his arms folded. The brim of his hat is pulled low, casting a dark shadow over his chiseled face. Makes him look even more devastatingly sexy.
Ugh, stop it!
“Take care, Doc,” Blaze says. “I’ll have a slice for you.”
Tyler looks at Blaze like he wants to say something. But he doesn’t. Just raises his hand in a wave and walks out of the house.
I slap a hand against Blaze’s chest. It hits hard, sculpted muscle. I grit my teeth, glowering at him. “There was no need to be rude. Tyler is a nice guy who stopped by to help me out.”
“Didn’t seem like he helped you out too much since he missed a pretty big fucking problem in that pasture.”
“Did it ever occur to you that he wasn’t in the spot where the nails were?”
“Nope. He’d have had to be blind to miss ’em.” His lips pull into a tight line. “Don’t be so naive, Savvie. He didn’t come here to help you out. He’s a guy. And you’re . . .” His voice trails off, and the hairs on my arms spring to attention.
“You sound jealous,” I say, my breath catching. “But if memory serves, you gave me up.”
He catches my wrist in his hand, and my pulse spikes.
His thumb runs over my skin, goose bumps pebbling the surface at his touch.
“Does he do this to you too?” Then he trails his fingertips down the side of my throat, right over the spot where my pulse is damn near ready to explode out of it. “Does he make your pulse race?”
My blood burns at his nearness, searing my veins, flooding me with heat and need. “None of that matters,” I finally rasp when my mouth decides to form words. “Because, yeah, you made me feel all those things. But you also made me cry. And I’m finished shedding tears over you, Blaze Hartman.”
His whiskey eyes pierce my soul, reaching down deep into a place nobody has ever been before.
“Careful, Savvie,” he says, the warning in his voice making my heart rattle. “Tears are the least of what I’ll take from you.”
He turns for the door, the wood floorboards creaking under the weight of his footsteps.
But when his hand hits the frame, he pauses.
Just for a second. His shoulders sag, and his head dips like the weight of something invisible is crushing him.
It’s gone as suddenly as it came, and he’s Blaze Hartman again, raging storm and inferno as he slams the door behind him.
The windows rattle at the sudden force, but it’s nothing compared to the tremor in my chest. Because for a fleeting second, I swear he looked . . . broken. And that terrifies me more than all of his rage.