Page 88 of When Sparks Fly

“Thank you, Jessica,” I say, finally finding my voice. “I’ll make sure to have everything completed by Sunday. I appreciate your understanding.”

“You bet. Have a good day, Maci.” She doesn’t wait for me to respond before hanging up.

I busy myself, folding and packing all of my belongings. The zipper of my duffle spears the room as Sutton steps back in with a towel wrapped around his waist and wet hair.

My breath catches.

I’m torn between wanting to jump him and confessing everything going on in my head.

With a composed face, he studies me. “Everything ok?”

“Yep.”

His eyes narrow. I swallow. The bed separates us, but he steps forward anyway. “Was that your mom again?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. It was my apartment complex.” Snatching the phone from the dresser at the end of the bed, I round the foot to tuck it into my purse which sits on the couch. Behind Sutton.

“Firecracker?” He knows.

I lean around him, shoving the phone in my bag before standing fully and facing him head-on. “Cowboy?” The usual coy tone that accompanies his nickname is gone. Instead it comes out unsteady.

He presses my chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifts my face, drawing my gaze up. His voice is tender. “Tell me what’s going on.”

How does he expect me to talk when he does things like that? “There’s a form I need to fill out by this weekend. I forgot with everything going on.”

A slight purse of his lips and narrowed eyes betray his suspicion, but he releases my chin.

“What did Shane say? And who is Shane?” I need to move on to another conversation for now.

He looks me over once more before turning and pulling a white tee from a drawer. “Shane is the sheriff.” He pulls the shirt over his head.

It fits entirely too perfectly and my mouth begins to water. I press my thighs together. He catalogs my fidgeting legs with a smirk. “I was calling to check on the status of finding Colt.”

Cold floods my system. “Oh.”

His jaw tightens. “They haven’t found him yet. I made sure they had the MC information to check in.”

“Ok.” The look he gives me saysokis not an acceptable response, that I should be more upset. “What’s on your agenda today?”

“You keeping tabs on me, Firecracker?” His grin is edible.

I chew my lip. “It turns out I’m going to be in town a few more days.”

Mischief gleams in his eyes and he takes a step back toward me, still clad in a towel and his white tee. I put a hand up quickly and he halts, his eyes widening and face going slack.

“If you plan to dress and get work done today, I suggest you not come any closer.”

He snorts before a full-body laugh bursts from him. “Otherwise, what? You’ll have your way with me, Firecracker?” Not heeding my warning, he comes close enough for his warmth to seep through my linen dress.

“I will.”

“I’m not sure you’re in a position to threaten me.” Two fingers dance along my thigh near the hem of my dress and wickedness fills his eyes again.

That’s all it takes for my body to light up and wetness to renew between my thighs. So I trace two fingers along his waist, above where the towel is tucked into itself. “It seems to me you’re in a very precarious situation yourself.”

I press up on my toes, leaning into him as if for a kiss. His head drops to meet me and his eyes darken. Just as our lips brush I whisper, “You’re playing with fire, Cowboy, and I’m not sure if you’re prepared for the fallout.”

The hand playing with my dress presses firmly against my thigh and he crashes his mouth into mine. Threading my hands into his still-wet hair, our tongues battle and dance together.

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