Page 17 of Perfectly Imperfect Us
Ava came willingly, her scent following me as we both reached up to help untack the window coverings. “Mine too. I thought I’d just run over real quick. But hey, I don’t have anywhere to be.”
We got the first covering down and light flooded into the shed. We both winced at the sudden appearance of the early afternoon sun.
“Maybe we should take down one more?” I pointed toward the one over the work table.
“Sure. Boost me up.” Ava grabbed my shoulders and looked down expectantly.
Swallowing down a laugh, I laced my hands together like we were kids again and she stepped up and onto the table. Crouching low and watching for those exposed wood beams in the ceiling, she got half the curtain down.
“Careful,” I said as she turned to head to the other side, the old table rocking back and forth. I didn’t like her being up there when I didn’t know how stable the table was after all these years. I shouldn’t have let her get up there.
I stepped forward right as she let out a whoop and made to jump off the table. I caught her to me easily and slowly lowered her down until her feet hit the floor. My heart thundered in my chest. Not so much because I worried about her falling off the small table, but because she used me as a human ladder, lighting me up with each rung she descended. Her warm body stayed pressed into mine as we both stood there breathing hard and staring at each other.
Time stood still, the tension in the air a living thing. A few wisps of hair had escaped the messy bun on top of her head, her cheeks pink from exertion. She was lovely. And I needed more of her.
My head dipped down without thought as to what I was doing next, pure instinct making me to act in ways I wouldn’t have had my rational mind been engaged. Before either of us had a chance to blink—or think—my lips were on hers. She froze for the first second and then melted against me, her lips moving with mine, letting me know I was not alone in this kiss or this desire to be with the other person.
That silent permission was all I needed.
Without taking my lips from hers, I hoisted her up and settled her on the table, her legs wrapped around me like she feared I’d stop the kiss at any moment. She was wrong. At any moment I’d decide to never stop kissing her, forcing her to live out her life here with me in this dingy old shed while I feasted on her.
The kiss burned hotter, neither of us able to get enough of the other. Which was odd. I’d had good kisses before, ones where I got lost in them and felt moderate attraction to the woman, but this was something else entirely. I couldn’t even form a coherent thought. I ran completely on desire and animal instincts. I needed more of her and nothing else mattered in the world.
It was that feeling of if I didn’t get more of her I might die that had me pulling back. Fear coursed through me, the front runner to shame. We hadn’t even talked about this attraction and here I was about to maul her in a dirty shed we got locked in. Ava deserved better. Any and all women deserved better.
As we stood there gulping air and trying to combat the fire threatening to consume us, I reminded myself that I was a better man than that. I prided myself on talking things out reasonably and doing the right thing. Always.
“Well…” Ava muttered, her hands finally letting go of my T-shirt to rest on her knees. “That was…”
Her legs had unwound from my waist and I realized I needed to step back and give her room. I did, though I fought myself with each inch that separated us.
“Intense?” The words grated across my raw throat.
She nodded, no longer meeting my gaze, which disturbed me further.
“Listen, Ava, I’m sorry. I should have—”
Her head lifted sharply. “You take that back, Ryder Burns.”
“I’m sorry?” I was confused. By both the venom in her tone and the use of my given name.
Her eyes flashed, more golden than usual as she hopped off the table and put her hands on her hips, staring up at me. “I said, take that back. You don’t get to say sorry for kissing me.”
I put my hands up in an offering of peace. “No. I misspoke. I’m not sorry for kissing you. I’m sorry for not talking to you about it before I did it.”
She frowned, but one side of her mouth tilted up. “You wanted to have a discussion about kissing me before you actually kissed me? Maybe write down a little thesis on the best way to go about it? Maybe a PowerPoint presentation too?”
She was teasing me.
I let my hands drop and gave her a look. “I’m just saying I should have checked in with you first to make sure that kiss was wanted. That it wasn’t just me taking somethingIwanted.”
She didn’t lose the line between her eyebrows, but she stepped closer, the lip tilt turning into the beginnings of a full-on smile. “I appreciate the sentiment, but me participating in that kiss should have told you loud and clear I was on board with it. Believe me, if I didn’t want you to kiss me, I would have shoved you back and kicked you in places that would have had you crying like a little boy.”
Relief flooded my system, even as I winced at the implication. I nodded. “Alright.”
Ava laid a hand on my chest, her touch in danger of lighting that fire again even though it was innocent. “Why don’t we get to know each other while we wait to be rescued. Maybe then we can read each other a little better, huh?”
I gestured to the table, hopping up and having a seat on one end. She hopped up on the other end and tapped her chin with one bright pink-painted fingernail.
