Page 57 of Love JD

That was not even remotely close to what I wanted her to apologize for. I wanted her to apologize for not thinking about her own safety. For being so consumed by defying expectations that she put herself in harm’s way. But gift horse’s mouth and all that. “We were worried. But, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. Mostly for overreacting.”

She huffed through her nose and held a hand out, palm up. “My phone?”

I handed it to her. “Are you going to send your brother after me?”

“No,” she muttered, staring down at it and swiping away at the screen to unlock it. “I get why you’re mad. But you’re still the worst.”

Well, hell. I wasn’t sure I deserved her understanding, either. That combination lock went click, click over my heart again on its way to something. I rubbed my chest. “Are you okay on your own?”

“Yes, thank you,” she bit out.

Suppressing a smile at her tone, I closed the door softly and continued rubbing my chest. I didn’t like the way my heart kept doing that. It kept notching along like it was looking for the right combination. If it ever landed on the right one, I wasn’t sure what it would unlock.

When Isla had finished eating, she washed her dishes, avoiding my gaze. She’d put on a baseball-style T-shirt with a random high school baseball team logo imprinted on the front in the form of a grinning hornet, and her jean shorts looked well-worn and comfortable. And stretchy. “Is that what you’re wearing?” I asked.

She tossed her long hair away from her face, drying her hands on a dish towel. Her eyes held more defiance than a medieval Scottish border. “Is there a problem? You’re wearing a T-shirt and jeans.”

I looked down at my outfit. Hardly. “Okay. We’re going shopping.”

“I hate shopping.” She threw the towel onto the counter and stalked away.

“Everyone hates shopping,” I quipped, following her. She’d brushed out her freshly washed hair, and it curled at the ends in a way that practically begged me to twirl it around my finger. “But you dress like a soccer mom.”

She stopped at the edge of the island, leaned against it, and gave me a perfectly curated glare that should have sent me running with my tail between my legs. Too bad for Isla, I found everything she did appealing. “What’s wrong with moms?”

“Nothing,” I grinned sliding around to frame her body with my hands on the counter on either side of hers. “No need to skip steps, though. We’re dating. You can dress like a mom when you get knocked up.”

Her eyes flared with outrage and the sudden red on her cheeks matched the sweep of blush that tinted her nose.

My grin widened. “Sorry. I really love seeing you do that.”

Isla planted a foot on my thigh and pushed me away. “Are you taking this off?”

“This?” I caught her foot and slid one hand up her left calf as the other unlatched the fake anklet. It had a button on the bottom that she likely would have figured out on her own if she’d given it five minutes. “It’s fake.” I slipped it off and dangled it in front of her.

“You—” Her outrage pulled her lips tight together.

“I what?” I asked, pressing forward again, pinning her bent leg to the outside of my thigh and cupping my hand under her knee. It was a shockingly intimate position, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.

Her words died on her rosy lips. Her hands gripped the open ends of my denim shirt to steady herself, and she bounced a look from our joined bodies to my lips. As badly as I wanted to close that distance between us and give her another kissing lesson, we had her reputation to save. And I didn’t want her to be too used to our physical intimacy if my plan was going to work. I released her leg slowly, making sure she didn’t lose her balance, and then I dropped the anklet on the counter. “I think I made my point.”

Her eyebrows slammed together. “You’re an asshole.”

“And a terrible lawyer?” I asked in mock offense as she straightened and leaned against the counter. “You’re wounding me, Isla.”

“There were better ways to make your point,” she glared.

I scrunched one side of my nose. “Maybe. Your brother told me to give you hell, and Kael happened to have one of those anklets. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“And now?” she challenged, folding her arms.

My mouth stretched. “I might have regrets. I am sorry. Belatedly.”

“Fine, then that makes two of us.” Isla glanced to the side before meeting my gaze again. “But you’re still an asshole.”

“I’ve been told that before,” I admitted with a half-smile.

“Make it up to me and don’t force me to go shopping,” Isla tried, cinching her eyelids into slits.

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