Minutes later, I pull into a parking space in front of Lips & Hips. Talking about leaving and never seeing her again or only seeing her every couple of years when I fly in to see my brother has the muscles in my back tied up into knots.
Through the window, I watch her smile at someone and hand a white bag with her black and pink logo on the outside to the person. Her hair is pulled high on her head, and the flush on her cheeks enhances her beauty.
My eyes narrow on the guy who’s taking the bag. Sawyer. My teeth grind together. Son of a bitch. The mere thought of her dating him once I leave has my fingertips digging into the steering wheel.
Not on your life. I slam the door shut and march to the front door of her shop. The light coating of snow deadens the sound of my boots as I traveled the sidewalk. The door flies open, and a young boy and his mom step outside.
“Oh!” Her eyes widen as she grasps the door and holds it for me. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Thank you.” The words come out as a bark while my gaze never leaves Norah. She leans against the counter and says something to Sawyer. The way her eyes dance as they laugh about whatever she said leaves a hollow feeling in my chest.
Does she like this guy? Has everything she said about not wanting to date or marry him been a lie because she’s worried that he doesn’t share her feelings? Is she waiting for him to ask her out?
Her gaze catches mine and she stills. She doesn’t blink or breathe until she bites her bottom lip. The heat in the room makes my entire body burn or maybe it’s the quick inhalation of her breath when she remembers to breathe that has my body igniting.
Sawyer turns on his heel and studies me. On instinct, my hands ball into fists to keep from shoving him out of the way and claiming her with a searing kiss. But she’s not mine. She’s made that clear.
When I go home, it’s over. She’s not waiting for me or flying back with me. Her gaze flicks from my mouth to rove over my body and back to my eyes in seconds. She’s gorgeous. Beautiful blue eyes. Slightly upturned nose. Plump lips that taste like heaven.
But she’s not mine. And I don’t like it.
“Hello, Gabriel.”
“Norah.” My voice comes out more like a bark than a cordial greeting. I don’t want him here. I don’t want him talking to her. Looking at her. Making her laugh. Asking her out. My nails dig into my palms.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you until next week.”
That was her other stipulation. We needed space. Fuck space.
“I needed some scones.” I stalk toward them as Sawyer backs up a step. Luckily there’s no one else here to see my cavemanroutine besides Sawyer. And he doesn’t count. I want him to know who she belongs to.
She frowns and picks up a notepad to write on. “Is the lodge out?”
“I have no idea. I didn’t stop by there when I left.”
Sawyer steps back again. “I’ll see you later, Norah.”
I bite back a growl as I glare at him.
He clears his throat and speedwalks to the door. “Later.” He’s not moving fast enough.
The second the chime rings and the door slams shut from the perpetual breeze off the lake, I round the corner of the counter, cup her face with one hand, and grip her hip with the other. “I missed you.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes twinkle as she tilts her head up to study me.
“Yes.”
One corner of her mouth arches upward. “What about space?”
“I don’t want any space between us.” I haul her to me until her body is flush against mine and revel in the way we fit together. In the way her eyes light up.
She rests her hands on my chest. “I think it’s prudent we don’t see each other to avoid any hurt feelings when you leave.” Her eyes trail down to my lips as the pulse point at her throat bounces in time with her erratic heartbeat.
“Too bad.” I lean down until our lips nearly touch. “When I’m here, you belong to me. I don’t want space between us, and I sure in the fuck don’t want any man in here flirting with you.”
Her eyes dance with merriment as she bites her lips together and laces her arms around my neck. “He wasn’t flirting with me.”
“Your face was flush,” I growl while yanking the clasp out of her hair, letting it bounce off the floor and fist the flowing strands. “And I don’t like it.”