Page 50 of When Sparks Fly

I hold his gaze for a moment, deliberating.

Sutton’s attractive, intuitive, and kind as far as I can tell. He grounds me in a way I haven’t been in too many years. Still, I don’t know what he’s getting at. No one threatened me. It was just a creep on a bike.

He continues to wait. His jaw ticks and I know he wants an answer.

“Colt,” I mumble, setting my wrap down with a little more force than necessary. His cheeks twitches below his left eye, though he says nothing. “The biker.”

“I know who he is,” he says. He releases his hold on his own food, of which he hasn’t taken a single bite, and leans his back against his chair. One hand disappears below the table and his boots slide further apart. I imagine he’s rubbing his leg as a calming gesture. His uninterrupted focus causes pooling between my thighs. I press my lips together.

On the surface he looks calm, no one in the restaurant would glance twice at his demeanor, and yet there’s a tension in the air. He wants to understand what’s going on, but also never truly makes me feel forced or uncomfortable about sharing.

“He bothered you.”

I avert my eyes, deliberately turning my head to look around the room.

“Hey.” This time, his tone is softer and I immediately find his eyes again. His jaw is relaxed and he leans toward the table, setting his arms atop it, like we’re about to share a secret. “What happened?”

“He was just leaving.”

Without missing a beat, he says, “Don’t do that. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m asking. Don’t shut me out.” His face is both serious and soft as he stares at me for a long moment. The way he reads me is too intense. I always try to keep things surface-level. Safe. But he’s too good at seeing through my shields. Knowing that hewantsto know what I keep hidden is equal parts terrifying andexhilarating.

A chosen few get through my barriers and those people have been in my life for years. So why do I want to let him in after a few nights?

I take a deep breath to steady myself. “He just winked.” I shake my head, annoyed at myselfandColt.

“What happened at the bar?”

I lick my lips. “He asked me out. I told him no. He was angry.” I study the dingy tile on the floor for a moment and then look directly into his still waiting stare. Once again, I consider the limited time I plan to spend here. I’m not going to skirt the choices I’ve made, to avoid discomfort with someone who isn’t even going to be in my life that long. If he wants the truth, he’s going to get it.

“He bought Leah and me drinks one night when we were out. That’s how she met Pete. We hung out with them. I suspect a drink for her was collateral, either to get us both to come over or to distract her with Pete.”

Talking about exes with people I’m dating isn’t really an issue. The past is the past and if they have hang-ups about it, that’s on them. Talking to a man I really like, about a really stupid decision, feels vastly different.

“We hooked up one night. It was stupid and less than satisfactory, but I was trying to get out of my head.” He masks the surprise well if there is any. “I told him it was nothing. I didn’t even think it was an issue. He didn’t exactly strike me as the type to stick around.

“Anyway, what you saw was him trying to be charming and ask me out. He was pretty pissed I said no.” The unease from the night at the bar slithers beneath my skin. “I haven’t seen him or talked to him since then.”

I say the last part for my benefit, not Sutton’s. Convincing myself there’s no reason to be concerned. Colt was just being a dick because he happened to see me again.

I stare at my wrap like it’s the reason behind all of my irritation.

“Maci, look at me.” His voice remains comforting and sure.

I do. So much is swirling around in his eyes.

“You’re not stupid. And you don’t need to justify any decisions to me. Or anyone else.” His face hardens. “You deserve to be satisfied, not scared.”

He rises and walks to the front counter before returning to the table with black to-go containers. He makes quick work of boxing everything up and putting it into a bag. “Come on.”

I take his hand willingly when he reaches for me. It’s a new normal that I gravitate to, enjoying the comfort he infuses into me with touch.

At the truck, Sutton situates the food on the back floorboard before opening my door, never letting go of my hand. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close to him. Those perfect eyes twinkle mischievously as he studies my face. “Do you trust me?”

I can’t help but smile and whisper, “Yes.”

“Good.” His other hand grips my neck and tangles in my hair as he leans in to kiss me. It’s possessive, and warm, and over faster than I want. He pulls away and kicks his head toward my seat, indicating that I should get in, which I do without hesitation. Hoping to create some friction, I cross one knee over the other to ease the ache he’s created.

Chapter 21

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