Page 60 of The Apple Tree

And funny. God, I loved her humor.

Her insatiable curiosity and rebellious desire.

The way my little boy squealed with joy in her presence.

Her shy grin.

Long, fluttering eyelashes.

Tart apples.

Sweet cinnamon and sugar.

Stargazing on the dock.

Defiant chin lifts.

And the sheer euphoria I felt when she walked into any room because she was so unpredictable.

Eve stared at her drink for several seconds before returning it to the counter. Then she rested her hands on my chest (a really bad idea) and lifted her gaze to mine. “I’m not that great atjustkissing either,” she murmured.

I gave her credit for feigning confidence, but her voice trembled. Her whole body shook.

I couldn’t uncross the line, so I idly stared at it. “This is a terrible idea,” I whispered more to myself than her.

She shrugged a shoulder. “How do you know? You haven’t kissed me yet.”

Take a bite of the apple.

“I hate cold tacos,” I said, stepping backward and turning to lead the way back to the sofa.

“You can’t do that to me.” She followed on my heels.

I sat on the sofa and resumed eating my taco. “Do what?” I mumbled, slowly chewing.

Eve parked her hands on her hips. “Tease me. I will not be toyed with like a cat. You can’t say that and not kiss me.”

God, she was even more beautiful when she was mad. Her pink cheeks and the determination in her dark brown eyes tried to unravel me.

“It was just an idea,” I said, watching the TV. “Talking out loud. Like should I go fishing or hunting? Then I think over the pros and cons of each and make a decision.”

“You didn’t givemea say in the matter.”

I swallowed and licked my lips, shifting my attention to her. “Sorry. What say you?”

She crossed her arms over her chest but didn’t speak.

My heart raced because whether or not it was a good idea, I knew she’d let me do just about anything to her. And that made my mind go in directions it didn’t need to go. It was a war between my fleeting rational thoughts and my dick that wanted me to let things happen, fuck the consequences.

“You’re getting in over your head,” I said, shifting the blame to her. I was fine, completely in control.

Liar.

I was the wolf, the hunter.

Eve was my prey, and I was giving her time to run.

But she didn’t have a bone of self-preservation in her body. Eve didn’t just gravitate toward trouble, she was trouble.

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