Page 38 of Jameson

Something inside me snapped. “Enough with the fake smiles, Greer.”

“It’s the only smile you’re getting.” She spun.

I grabbed her arm. “Hang on. I apologized for the kiss. I was out of line.”

She jerked her arm away and spun back to face me. Her face was furious. “I didn’t want a stupid apology.”

My chest felt tight. I hated seeing her upset. “I hate this distance between us. You’re important to me, Greer.”

A spasm crossed her face. “Just not important enough.” She looked away and her shoulders sagged. “Just go, Jameson.”

“No.” I took a step closer. “I shouldn’t have touched you, shouldn’t have kissed you?—”

She made an angry sound and gripped the front of my shirt. “I wanted you to kiss me, you big oaf. I’ve wanted it for a long time.”

My brain stopped working.What?

She shook her head, went up on her toes, and kissed me.

I didn’t think, I just reacted. I hauled her close and kissed her back.

She made a hungry sound, and the kiss turned fierce. We attacked each other. I loved the taste of her, loved the sounds of her moans.

Then she pulled back.

We were both panting.

“That’s what I wanted,” she said breathily. “Not a damn apology.”

What the hell?

Then she turned and stalked away.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Greer

Dinner was a fun, noisy affair.

Maxim had a sexy laugh, and my female engineers were drooling over him. Everyone was enjoying the food, and letting off some of the tension of a dangerous situation, and the grief over our lost friends.

It was something my mom and dad had always told me. You had to grieve, but also make the most of the good times. You had to hang onto all the good you had in your life. That it helped you survive the bad times. I guess the alien invasion had taught them that.

Colbie and some of my engineers had cooked up some great dishes. I’d gorged myself on an amazing lentil curry and some of Colbie’s famous spiced chicken wings. Frankie had been given the all-clear by North and had joined us. She was on light duties for another two weeks.

Across the table Marc chuckled, long and loud, at something Frankie had said. He’d always been louder and more easy-goingthan his twin. Zeke was more like his dad Gabe—quiet, intense, brooding.

Speaking of brooding.

Jameson sat at the head of the table. He’d been quiet all night, and I’d felt him watching me several times. I glanced over at him.

Oh. He was looking at me now, his hands steepled under his chin. I crossed my legs. His gaze felt like a touch. I wished I knew what he was thinking.

Our second kiss had been on replay in my head all evening. I was pretty sure he now knew that I didn’t think of him as a brother or cousin, or any other sort of relative.

I got that our family was a factor. A messy breakup would cause problems.

But life was messy, especially in the aftermath of an alien invasion. And sometimes, things were worth the risk.

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