whole shaving-your-chest trend.”
“Good to know.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I don’t know why I felt the need to share that with you. I should go,” she added in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Why, Jessica?” he asked, and when she raised her gaze to meet his, he witnessed a flash of fear that made him want to gather her in his arms and hold her until it melted away.
“Because . . .” she began, but then seemed to be at a loss for a valid reason. “It’s late,” she finally answered. “I have to—” she continued, but Ty reached out and grabbed her hand. Her eyes widened when he tugged her inside the condo, and she stumbled forward and bumped against him, nearly knocking the cake out of his hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” she sputtered, and Ty had to hide his smile.
Yes!
He wanted spunk, anger, passion, humor—anything but fear.
Oh, and Ty understood. He had steered clear of serious relationships for fear of hurting someone the way his father had crushed his mother. Jessica had been hurt. It was high time that they both put those fears to rest and took a chance. He closed the door with his foot and tugged her toward the kitchen.
“Hey!” she continued to protest, and pulled on his hand. “Let me go!”
“You have to eat cake on your birthday!” he said, and then placed the plate on the table. As soon as he released her hand, she fisted it on her hip and gave him a good glare.
“I don’t appreciate being manhandled.”
Ty raised his palms in the air. “Fine. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“And you need to put a shirt on.”
“Why?” He reached down and swiped his fingertip through the icing and then slowly licked it off. She watched as if fascinated. “It’s my place and there’s no rule that you have to wear a shirt, but if it’s bothering you or something, I’ll go and put one on.”
She raised her chin a notch. “No, never mind. The sight of your bare chest isn’t really bothering me.”
Ty took a step closer, and to her credit, she stood her ground. “I think it is. I think you’re getting
hot
and bothered.”
“You are so very, very, absolutely, totally wrong.”
“I think you protest way too much. That could only mean one thing.”
“What?”
“That I’m right.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.” She frowned. “Wait. I mean, wrong.”
“Then touch me,” he challenged, and took another step closer.
“No! Give me a fork. I want my cake.”
“Chicken?”
“No, I want cake.”
“Are you afraid to touch me, Jessica?” He decided to go ahead and challenge her fear head-on.
“Oh . . .” She tilted her head and gazed up at him, and he waited, fully expecting a sharp protest. “Yes,” she answered so softly that at first he thought he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Ty, it’s been so long that I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
God . . . his heart ached with her honest admission. He knew it was the alcohol that allowed her to speak so freely, and for that reason he should back off. “Jessica, I’m sorry. I’m being an ass.” He started to turn away and get the fork that she had requested, but she reached up and placed one cool hand on his warm skin.
“No. I mean,
yeah
, you are but . . . oh . . .”
Ty looked down.
It was just a hand. On his chest. No, it was
her
hand.
And her small act of courage reached in and grabbed his heart much like the exhilaration of making an impossible diving catch and coming up with the ball.
He looked down into those whiskey-colored eyes and he was lost—no, make that captivated. God, she was such a beauty with those full lips, high cheekbones, and perfect nose. And she was talented, smart . . . funny. She should ooze confidence. Own it. But her lips trembled and sheswallowed hard. Ty thought she was going to pull away, and he wanted to trap her hand against his body, but he refrained. This was up to her. He wouldn’t force it.
Her shoulders rose and fell
“Good to know.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I don’t know why I felt the need to share that with you. I should go,” she added in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Why, Jessica?” he asked, and when she raised her gaze to meet his, he witnessed a flash of fear that made him want to gather her in his arms and hold her until it melted away.
“Because . . .” she began, but then seemed to be at a loss for a valid reason. “It’s late,” she finally answered. “I have to—” she continued, but Ty reached out and grabbed her hand. Her eyes widened when he tugged her inside the condo, and she stumbled forward and bumped against him, nearly knocking the cake out of his hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” she sputtered, and Ty had to hide his smile.
Yes!
He wanted spunk, anger, passion, humor—anything but fear.
Oh, and Ty understood. He had steered clear of serious relationships for fear of hurting someone the way his father had crushed his mother. Jessica had been hurt. It was high time that they both put those fears to rest and took a chance. He closed the door with his foot and tugged her toward the kitchen.
“Hey!” she continued to protest, and pulled on his hand. “Let me go!”
“You have to eat cake on your birthday!” he said, and then placed the plate on the table. As soon as he released her hand, she fisted it on her hip and gave him a good glare.
“I don’t appreciate being manhandled.”
Ty raised his palms in the air. “Fine. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“And you need to put a shirt on.”
“Why?” He reached down and swiped his fingertip through the icing and then slowly licked it off. She watched as if fascinated. “It’s my place and there’s no rule that you have to wear a shirt, but if it’s bothering you or something, I’ll go and put one on.”
She raised her chin a notch. “No, never mind. The sight of your bare chest isn’t really bothering me.”
Ty took a step closer, and to her credit, she stood her ground. “I think it is. I think you’re getting
hot
and bothered.”
“You are so very, very, absolutely, totally wrong.”
“I think you protest way too much. That could only mean one thing.”
“What?”
“That I’m right.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.” She frowned. “Wait. I mean, wrong.”
“Then touch me,” he challenged, and took another step closer.
“No! Give me a fork. I want my cake.”
“Chicken?”
“No, I want cake.”
“Are you afraid to touch me, Jessica?” He decided to go ahead and challenge her fear head-on.
“Oh . . .” She tilted her head and gazed up at him, and he waited, fully expecting a sharp protest. “Yes,” she answered so softly that at first he thought he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Ty, it’s been so long that I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
God . . . his heart ached with her honest admission. He knew it was the alcohol that allowed her to speak so freely, and for that reason he should back off. “Jessica, I’m sorry. I’m being an ass.” He started to turn away and get the fork that she had requested, but she reached up and placed one cool hand on his warm skin.
“No. I mean,
yeah
, you are but . . . oh . . .”
Ty looked down.
It was just a hand. On his chest. No, it was
her
hand.
And her small act of courage reached in and grabbed his heart much like the exhilaration of making an impossible diving catch and coming up with the ball.
He looked down into those whiskey-colored eyes and he was lost—no, make that captivated. God, she was such a beauty with those full lips, high cheekbones, and perfect nose. And she was talented, smart . . . funny. She should ooze confidence. Own it. But her lips trembled and sheswallowed hard. Ty thought she was going to pull away, and he wanted to trap her hand against his body, but he refrained. This was up to her. He wouldn’t force it.
Her shoulders rose and fell
Similar Books
