Page 36 of The Kiss Countdown

Wait,away? Yes. It’s inconceivable, but that is what he’s doing. I blink a few times to get my brain working again. To remember that boxing him in and demanding he take me on the counter is a bad, bad idea. To remember that Vincent and I have a deal and my stay is temporary.

After a few gulps of oxygen, I’m thinking coherently enough to function. I clear my throat. “I just needed some water.”

I grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge, mindful of him watching my every move.

“Good night,” I say, and for the second time tonight, bolt to safety.

I close the door and chug the water like I’m in the desert, dying of thirst. When that does nothing to cool my simmering blood, I stop by the top drawer of the nightstand on my way to take a nice, long shower.

Chapter Thirteen

From the comfort of the passenger’s seat of Vincent’s truck, I watch as cars pull in and out of the gas station. There’s theclinkof a gas nozzle being replaced, and then Vincent appears at the driver’s-side window, peering at me through aviator shades. “Do you need anything from inside?” He tosses his keys in the air and catches them with one hand.

I shake my head while keeping my eyes glued to my phone. Once we hit the highway, I plan to tug my silk-lined beanie down far enough to cover my eyes and take a nap.

“Do you need to come in and use the restroom or anything?” he presses.

It’s common sense to handle your business before going on a long road trip. Not to mention, we’re less than two miles away from the house. Of course I don’t need to use the restroom. I sigh and shake my head no once again.

“I’ll be right back, then.” Vincent pushes off the window and walks toward the front of the store.

It’s only then that I raise my head to watch him walk away. And what a walk it is. Even my mom would have to admit it rivals the likes of Denzel’s. His steps are easy and sure, with a quiet confidence.

I keep watching as he first holds the door open for aman with a case of beer under each arm, then disappears inside. Obviously, Vincent’s trip out of town for training wasn’t enough of a breather.

I’ve made it a point not to think of Vincent and his sudden aloofness, or our almost kiss. Then today, Thursday morning, he came home as promised.

He greeted me with his affable smile and quick teasing, appearing so composed and unaffected. Like he hasn’t given a second’s thought to our kitchen rendezvous, while the first thing I did was zero in on his lips and wonder if they’d be as soft as they were on New Year’s Eve. Once I realized the direction my thoughts had taken, I was mad at myself and snapped a quick hello before hiding in the bedroom. Essentially keeping him from his closet and access to the master bath.

Part of me hopes he’ll lash out at some point and say something rude or disrespectful. Anything to help me get rid of this attraction. But not Vincent. He won’t allow himself to be fazed by my petulance.

He knocked on the door and said he’d be ready to load my bags when they were packed.

As much as I appreciate a man who can put up with the worst of my moods, why can’t he just be predictable?

Two minutes after walking inside, Vincent comes back to the car, pausing at the window. “In case you change your mind and need a snack later.”

I jump when a white plastic bag lands in my lap. Before I can say anything, Vincent is gone again, reaching for the complimentary squeegee on the side of the fuel pump. While he meticulously cleans the front and back windows, I open the bag and find two Snickers Almond bars. My favorite candy.

I stare at the treats and twist my lips as guilt stabs atme. Damn it. Why am I fighting so hard to box Vincent out? We are supposed to be partners.

Have I always been this way? Desperate to keep myself closed off from people who just want to help? Growing up, I always made it a point not to place any more burdens on my parents than they already had, so I guess naturally that’s extended to other people. I should probably talk to a professional about it.

At the very least, I need to stop being so prickly with Vincent. I need him, and he needs me. I can ignore the attraction I feel toward him while we get through this week with his family.

I tie the handles of the bag into a loose knot and lay it back in my lap as Vincent steps up into the truck. “Thank you for the candy, Vincent. You really didn’t have to get me two.”

“I know you already ate lunch, and we should make it to the cabin before dinner, but we can’t have you all hungry and mean while we’re on the road.” He winks at me and starts the engine. “And one’s for me. I love Snickers.”

He has good taste in candy, and Icanbe mean when I’m hungry, so I’ll let his comment slide.

I take my beanie off. “So, let me make sure I remember everything correctly. This cabin we’re going to was actually your childhood home?”

“Yes. We’re from a small town called Bliss, not to be confused with Fort Bliss. It’s close to Garner State Park. Have you ever been kayaking out there on the Frio River?”

“I’ve never been there or been kayaking.”

“I’ll have to take you one day. I don’t think we’ll have time this visit, but maybe next year when I get back.”

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