Scorch by Dani Collins Page A

like that .
    She took a while to answer, not knowing how. She was horrified that he had seen right through to the lust burning a hole inside her. Would she never master the art of disguising her feelings?
    And was it better or worse that he thought she was generically horny? She wasn’t. She was attracted to him . It was so confusing to not only want sex, but to want Vin . He was her friend. She trusted him with her whole self—mind, body, and heart.
    Which was why it had hurt so much to have him reject her the way he had.
    She didn’t really blame him. She understood he felt loyal to her dead husband, his captain. Maybe she wasn’t even Vin’s type. Tori was way more stacked, had long wavy hair and was very comfortable with her sex appeal. When you possessed all the top physical qualities yourself, you were allowed to be choosy about who you mated with.
    It was just that her worst nightmare was to be in that same awful position of yearning and aching for an attraction to be returned, but here she was all over again. Dear God, please don’t let anyone notice, least of all Vin.
    So she pretended it was just pre-season tension and texted back a mollifying, I know .
    An hour went by and he texted, Burger night at DZ. Come with us?
    She read it as the peace offering it was and sent back, Can’t. Cinda’s big night .
    Tell her to break a leg , he texted.
    She started going back to yoga two evenings a week, which not only felt good, it didn’t leave her at home wishing he was there.
    One night she asked Vin if he would be home for dinner because she was cooking for Rhonda, but he chose to leave them to enjoy their girl time by eating at the bar, texting, I can drive her home later if she wants to drink .
    She and Roni split most of a bottle of wine and by the time he’d taken Rhonda home and come back, Jacqui had gone to bed. Like a coward.
    She saw him every day at work, of course, but with people around. She always managed to look busy if he happened to be in the common area or coming in or out of Sam’s office or down from the loft.
    She was busy, mind well occupied, so he completely blindsided her when he snuck up on her in the janitor’s closet under the stairs.
    “I just left a stack of requisitions on your desk.”
    Her heart leapt and her limbs stung like she’d walked into an electric fence.
    She quickly dropped her attention back to her count of… She couldn’t remember if she’d been counting the toilet rolls or the hand sanitizer.
    “Thanks,” she mumbled, self-conscious and hyperaware of his closeness.
    It was a rare moment of being alone without being alone. Above them, the hum of the sewing machines was competing with the clatter of activity in the ready room down the hall, where they were running speed drills. The phone rang behind Sam’s office door. Distant shouts came through the open front doors along with the crunch of tires and the buzz of an early season weed whacker.
    A sweet spring breeze had been wafting through the building all morning, rippling papers and stroking over her bare arms like a caress, lightly stimulating her.
    Yeah. Spring. That was all this was. Her sap was rising.
    And then he spoke. “Jac, are we okay?” He pitched his voice really low.
    She heard a world of emotion in the question and her heart wrenched. They were friends. He didn’t want this distance any more than she did.
    She made herself lift her head and look at him. She tried really hard not to betray that desire pulsed in her for more from him than the asexual caring of friendship.
    Unfortunately, he promptly filled her vision with the fact he hadn’t shaved and had his sunglasses tucked into the neckline of his T-shirt. His shirt hugged his shoulders and muscled chest, accentuating where his arms were tanning up.
    She swallowed, instantly affected. Involuntarily, she searched his expression, longing for him to return this spark of desire. She wanted this chemistry to be mutual.
    She wanted him to want her