Page 22 of Fire in My Heart

“The Monroes already have a shop, and I go by Teddy.” OnlyMom called me Theodore, and the reminder made my heart constrict.

Charlotte’s hand slid slightly as she moved even closer. Now her hand was hovering on my stomach, tantalizingly close to my waist band. Was anyone watching us? Did they see how stiff I was holding myself? Did they think I was uncomfortable, or did they know how much I wanted this woman? I’d try to deny the attraction, but with her in my space, there was no disputing it. I wanted her.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “The Monroes don’t hold the market on Christmas shops.”

My jaw tightened as she looked up at me from under her eyelashes. “Everyone loves to buy things. They come here to kick off the Christmas season or to add to their holiday events, and when they do, they feel good.”

She emphasized each word until I felt them in my groin.

I wanted her to make me feel good, but I was almost positive she wasn’t talking about me or my dick.

“They want to capitalize on that feeling. They want more. They want to buy things and fill their home with joy and memories of this farm.”

I shook my head before she’d even finished her declaration.

She arched one delicate brow. “No?”

“No,” I said tightly.

Her hand shifted, and I grabbed her wrist out of self-preservation. She had no idea how close I was to snapping.

Her wrist was delicate in my grip, her pulse fluttered under my fingers. Her breath hitched, and I wanted to lean down and possess her mouth.

She tipped her head to the side as if she was trying to figure me out. “What do you think they want?”

“I think they want a tree.”

Charlotte tipped her head back and laughed.

The sound was sweet to my ears, but I had a feeling she was laughing at me.

When she recovered, a grin played on her face. “You’re funny.”

“I’m not. At all.” No one had ever said that about me, so if she was saying that, she was making fun of me.

“Relax.”

I was still holding her wrist, but her free hand came up to touch me.

“I think you’re funny.”

“Why are you always touching me?” I wanted my voice to be hard, but it came out soft.

Charlotte’s brow furrowed. “I’m a touchy-feely person.” She pulled away, and I let her go. “Sorry, I forget you don’t like it.”

I let her think I didn’t like to be touched, even though it couldn’t be further from the truth. I liked whenshetouched me.

She clicked the locks on her car, opened the door, and slid inside.

Right before I closed her door, I said, “Enjoy your bath.” My voice sounded like I was talking around stones, and my skin felt like it was on fire. It was a combination of her touch, her proximity, and the challenge I saw in her eyes.

She was reacting to something between us. I was positive she wasn’t attracted to me, but she was picking up on my energy. Right now, I wanted to follow her home and into her cottage. I wanted to see if I’d fit into that tub with her.

Charlotte merely raised her brow, then backed up.

I wouldn’t be able to relax tonight, not with visions of her naked in the tub. If I came home to her, I’d go straight to the bathroom, dropping my uniform as I went. And when I got to the bathroom, she’d be waiting for me with a seductive grin on her face, her hands already playing with her clit and slipping inside.

I adjusted myself before I went back to work. I wouldn’t get that vision out of my head any time soon.

---