Page 31 of Rush

Stepping back to inspect the section he’d just finished, he looked over his shoulder to see Nora painting around the door. Her left hand moved, grabbing his attention, and the bareness of her finger was glaringly obvious after seeing his ring there all afternoon. She’d taken it off before getting to work, not wanting to get paint on it, and he was surprised how much the simple act of its removal had such a huge impact on his emotions.

With head bowed in concentration, her thick hair swept up into a messy bun revealed wispy hair that flirted with the skin at the nape of her neck. Captivated by the sight of such smooth perfection, it was hard to look away. He didn’t usually fixate on the back of a woman’s neck. Her tits? Sure. Her ass? All day. But for some strange reason—like all the strange reasons when it came to Nora—he was fascinated with that small patch of skin.His lips would tuck into the spot perfectly and her skin would be warm and carry the faint scent of flowers and her.

As if sensing his perusal, she turned her head, catching him staring. “Done?” Her eyes stayed on him for a few beats before shifting to the wall behind him. “It looks good. If you ever quit football, you can get a job as a house painter.” She chuckled at her own joke.

He moved toward her.

Her smile vanished as he grew near, replaced by a small frown. “What’s wrong?”

He brushed his thumb just above the ridge of her jaw. “You’ve got a little paint on your cheek.”

Her smile returned. “Well, you’ve got paint in your hair.”

His eyes were drawn to her lips as she spoke, reminding him of their kiss earlier that afternoon. Even knowing it had been staged for the sake of their audience, her reluctance to participate had grated. That her resistance was of his making and his own damn fault only chafed more. But he wouldn’t go back on the promise he’d made himself no matter how much he wanted her. Nora was an all or nothing kind of girl. And not for the likes of him.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want her.

He ran his thumb along her jawline again because he couldn’t seem to stop himself and her smile faded.

She took a step back, removing his touch and set her brush down. “I’m going to get some water. Can I bring you any?”

He balled his hand into a fist. “No thanks. I’m good.”

Her chin dipped in response, then she skirted around him and was out the door.

He was left staring at the empty doorway, still breathing in the faint floral scent Nora had left behind when she walked past him and knew he was totally fucked.

****

“Absolutely not.” Nora stood, feet planted, looking ready for a fight, but this was one matter Linc would not be swayed from nor compromise on.

“It wasn’t a suggestion. You’re sleeping in my room tonight and that’s final.” The hour had grown late while they finished painting the room so it would be done before the furniture arrived in the morning. He was tired and in no mood to argue.

“Linc, seriously, I’m not kicking you out of your bed. I’ve been sleeping on the couch at Oz’s for weeks. Here there’s no difference.”

“The difference is, I won’t allow it.”

He knew he’d used the wrong approach when her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed. “You won’t allow it?”

Yep, that had definitely been the wrong thing to say, but that didn’t change the fact he would still get his way come hell or high water. He just needed to change tack. “I have to get up early in the morning to go on my run. I don’t wanna have to worry about making noise and waking you up.”

She shrugged, managing to make the action look aggressive. “I’m a heavy sleeper.”

Stubborn woman. “It’s late and I’m tired. Can we just jump ahead to the part where you do as I ask?”

Her chin jutted, joining her eyes which narrowed further. “How about we jump ahead to the part where I leave and come back in the morning?”

He stared into her eyes. Studied the expression on her face. She’d meant that.

Fuck.

He wouldn’t be the victor in this argument.

Though it truly grated, he threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine. You win.”

A triumphant smile instantly transformed her features. “Thank you.”

Defeat tasted of sawdust, coating his tongue and drying out his mouth so all he could manage was a curt nod before heading upstairs. Hating to lose is what made Linc such a good athlete. But it seemed, given her clever tactics, Nora hated to lose even more. That made her a challenging adversary, and despite his aggravation, he was grinning by the time he reached his room.

---