Page 5 of Off-Limits Bad Boy

And yet, most - if not all - of my jokes are nothing but raw truth sheathed in a facade, designed to push her away when all I ever want to do is pull her close.

I know it’s messed up, but I’m not sure how else to deal with how I feel about her. And her hatred is easier for me to manage than if she cared for me. Hate will ensure there’s never a slip up between us. And hatred will keep her from ever possibly falling for me.

After about twenty minutes have passed, the door creaks open and footsteps move toward me. I don't need to look to know it is Emma; the familiar rush of adrenaline at her proximity is all the confirmation I need.

“Knowing you, you've probably built a fort out of wine cases by now.” Emma's voice rings out clear, laced with that same exasperated humor.

“Considered it,” I say, internally wishing I had done that. I could have been having fun in here, but instead, I was thinking about her the whole time. Pushing away from the shelves and moving toward her voice, I try to hold back a laugh.

Our eyes meet and the air between us feels thick, emotionally charged. Her blue eyes search mine, and for a fleeting moment, I wonder if she sees through my act.

“Did you find it?” she asks, her gaze moving down next to my boots where I’d set the bottle about ten minutes into waiting.

“Nope. Absolutely not,” I say with a smirk. “And I thought I might stay missing a little while longer.”

Her lips part slightly, and I could almost hear the unspoken question. Why? The word hangs there, suspended in the cool air, a mystery she couldn't unravel. She’ll never guess the reason, and I’m not about to share the truth with her. Or anyone, for that matter.

“Kade...” she says, but the rest of her sentence seems to get lost, maybe because she doesn't know what to say, or maybe because, for once, I don't want to hear her tell me to go away. Her gaze is soft, her hands delicate as she pushes her locks away from her face.

“Emma,” I say, matching her tone and letting her name linger on my tongue.

She sighs as if there’s something heavy weighing her down. And for a second, I’m genuinely worried. Her gaze leaves mine to sweep the room and I wait, wondering what she’s about to reveal. Because there’s something so gentle in her features I can’t help but think something between us is about to change, forever.

Her gaze meets mine once more, her eyes sparkling with a desire I wish I could taste.

“Yes?” I ask, waiting.

A slight smile curves the corners of her lips, and her voice is little more than a whisper as she says, “You’re a dick.”

Touché. She had me going, I’m not going to lie. But this response was actually the best thing she could have done or said - for both of us. What might I have given away if she’d truly responded with warmth or a supercharged emotion?

Before I can respond to her statement, we both feel it - a sudden change in air pressure, a surge and pull.

And the walk-in door clicks closed behind us, sealing us into this private world alone with one another.

Chapter Three

Emma

The chill from the walk-in freezer nips at my bare arms as I stand far too close to Kade. There’s a light of humor in his eyes and a challenge in the set of his full lips. His presence is like a furnace, his heat incongruous with the cold shelves lined with chilled bottles.

“I think that was all I needed,” I say, nodding at the bottle by his feet. “Now I’m going to leave. You’re welcome to stay here and cool your thoughts.” I’m only teasing, but I see his eyes narrow slightly.

Walking closer to him, I see an unexpected darkness in his eyes that sends a thrill through my belly

“Let's see if you can manage that,” Kade says, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Manage what?” I ask, staring at him and silently daring him to explain himself.

He leans in close until his lips are flush with my ear before softly saying two words that send a skitter of excitement up my spine. “To leave.”

I inhale, stunned by the way random parts of me light up with an unexpected thrill.

Rolling my eyes, I brush past him, the narrow space between our bodies crackling with an energy I try to ignore. Am I going crazy? Maybe the cold is getting to me. Or maybe I’m just frazzled from working so hard. Next time Alex asks if he can leave, the answer will be a resounding no.

With a long, swinging stride to put the maximum distance between us, I make my way to the walk-in door. I reach for the quick release and push the flat handle in with a confident shove. But instead of the door popping open, the lock doesn't disengage.

“Uh...” My heart skips a beat. Not good. I push the handle again and again, feeling how easily the thing gives as if there’s no resistance. Like it’s not engaging the locks to release them.

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