Page 25 of Sweet Southern Heat

The back door creaked open, and I jumped. Attempting to compose myself, I scooped flour into a measuring cup and gingerly added it to a mixing bowl as though I hadn’t been anxiously awaiting his arrival. At the sound of his boots thudding across the tiled floor, I peered over my shoulder and spoke with the steadiest voice I could muster.

“Good morning,” I said, quickly returning my attention to my work as though I couldn’t spare an extra moment to converse.

“Mornin’,” he grumbled. The husky timbre of his voice sent a thrill down my spine. Just like he did every morning, he strode through the kitchen, intent on getting straight to work, but this time he paused at the doorway. My pulse jackhammered withthe anticipation of what he’d do next. Would he mention the kiss? Try to do it again?

That last thought had my blood heating in my veins and pumping double time with my rapidly rising heart rate. He stood there for a brief moment as though contemplating what to say before his tense shoulders sagged, and he shook his head then disappeared out of sight. I wasn't sure what I was expecting. I thought maybe he would address the elephant in the room, but he didn’t say a word. That was fine. We should both probably try to forget about it anyway. No good could come of it. It wasn’t like it could happen again. We were all wrong for each other. He was my ex’s brother, for crying out loud. The last thing I should’ve been thinking about was kissing him.

Absently, I feathered my fingertips along my lips. They tingled with the memory of his kiss. Still, I couldn’t let it happen again. Iwouldn’t. At least, that was what I told myself as I rolled dough and mixed batter for the day’s items. Deep down, I wasn’t sure I could resist him if he came to me again with those soft lips and that smoldering gaze.

I was lost in my thoughts when there was a crash, and a shouted curse came from the front of the store. Dropping my rolling pin to the counter, I ran toward the sound, pulling up short when I saw Landon clenching one hand around the other, blood dripping off the end of his finger.

“Are you okay?” I asked, closing the distance and reaching for his hand.

“Fine,” he gritted out, his voice strained.

“Let me see,” I demanded.

“It’s nothing,” he replied dismissively.

“Then you won’t mind me taking a look,” I challenged. He begrudgingly relented and held out his hand. Blood oozed from his finger, and bruising was already starting to spread beneathand around his fingernail. “What did you do?” I asked, turning his hand over to inspect it.

“Hammer.” He sucked in a sharp breath as I prodded the area around where he'd apparently brought the hammer down on his finger. “Got distracted.” I mulled that over, wondering what could have distracted him enough to dothis. Was he out here thinking about me like I’d been thinking about him? I wouldn’t let myself dwell on that possibility.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Without waiting for a response, I grabbed his uninjured hand, ignoring the spark of electricity that traveled between us at the contact. Leading him to the tiny bathroom, I turned on the water and gently grabbed his bleeding hand, thrusting it under the stream. He let out another low curse, and I winced.

“Sorry. We have to clean the wound,” I explained. Once the blood ran clear, I patted it dry with a clean paper towel and dug the first aid kit out of the cabinet beneath the sink. The room was so small, there was barely space for me to bend to retrieve it without bumping into Landon. My hip brushed against his thigh as I stood, and my pulse picked up speed at the contact. I mumbled another apology and watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a heavy swallow.

“S’alright,” he croaked out.

Locating the antiseptic and bandages, I set to work, patching him up. The wound wasn’t as bad as I originally thought, so it would be easy to treat.

I felt his gaze on the side of my face as I wrapped medical tape around his finger. My pulse skittered as I lifted my gaze to his and found longing dancing in his eyes. They dropped to my lips as though reliving our kiss. Did he want a repeat as badly as I did?

“Landon.” My voice came out in a breathy whisper, and he slowly returned his gaze to mine. He leaned in infinitesimally, and I held my breath awaiting his next move.

“Livy, where are you?” A voice called out, and our heads both snapped in the direction of the open bathroom door a second before Nina appeared. “There you are. Oh, hi,” she said when she noticed Landon standing there with me, his injured hand still gripped in mine. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked with her Cheshire cat grin.

“No,” we both said in a rush, and she cocked a skeptical brow.

“I was just patching Landon up. He got hurt.” Her smile faltered, and concern filled her eyes.

“Oh, no. Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine. This is minor and won’t even slow me down,” he assured her. He tugged his hand from my grip, and I released him, instantly missing his warmth. He slipped out of the bathroom and disappeared from sight. Nina’s wide, questioning eyes found mine. I schooled my expression, unwilling to give anything away.

“So,” she began, a teasing lilt to her tone, “that looked … intense.”

“It was nothing,” I said, waving her off.

“That didn’t look likenothing.” I rolled my eyes playfully, hoping she wouldn’t notice how my hands shook.

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“You’re no fun,” she said with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest dramatically. “You know, your grandma was fond of him. I think she would’ve liked the two of you together.”

My chest seized up, and my throat tightened at the mention of my grandmother. Just when I thought I was beginning to heal from her unexpected loss, hearing someone talk about her was like a knife through the heart. Noticing my expression, Nina’s eyes softened and filled with regret.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

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