Page 40 of Tangled Kisses
I meet her gaze, no hesitation. “If I ever had a chance with your sister, Piper, breaking her would be the last thing I’d do.”
Chapter Ten
Reese
“Will you do me a favor?” Capri leans her head in the doorway of my office, a smile quirking her face.
“Absolutely.”
Here’s hoping she’s not about to ask me to fill in for one of the escorts, because that’s one area in which I lackanyskill. Vander made damn sure of that—world’s most selfish lover, collecting women like trading cards and giving nothing back.
Unlike him, I don’t collect anyone.
Bad luck for me, I guess.
Capri sets a box on the edge of my desk. “Will you run that down to Griffin? He’s working at one of the cabins, repairing the irrigation pump housing. Normally I’d take it myself, but I’m late for a meeting.”
I don’t have a clue what an irrigation pump housing is, let alone how you’d repair it, but it sounds like contractor cowboy business to me. “Sure.” My fingers trace the edge of the box as I force a smile.
“It’s not any trouble?”
“Not at all.”
And it isn’t. Except for the fact that I’ve been avoiding the gorgeous cowboy for the last couple of days. Not because of anything he’s done—quite the opposite. It’s the way he makes me feel. Like my insides have turned into a hive of restless butterflies, wings beating harder every time I’m near him.
The way he looks at me, steady and unflinching. The way he says my name, like it tastes good in his mouth. The tone of his voice—low, warm—flips switches I’ve kept off for years.
Switches that cannot be turned back on.
Not for him.
Because he can’t be mine. Oh, he could be mine for a night—if I paid the price. But that’s all it would ever be.
And I know myself too well. I would want more.
Much more.
That want is dangerous. Sabine’s words still echo in my head:None of the women matter.The way she looked at the flowers, dismissing them as if they were nothing, dismissing me as ifIwere nothing. And God, what if she’s right? What if I’m reading too much into every glance, every word?
Because I’ve been wrong before. I thought I knew Vander. I thought I could trust him. And I was so very,verywrong.
So I choose avoidance of the stunning, soulful cowboy. Distance is safer than hope.
Guess that ends today.
I take a deep breath and grab the box, casting a quick glance in the mirror by the door.
At least I look like myself again. Color in my cheeks, a little light in my eyes. As my mother would say, there’s life in the old girl yet.
The heat hits like a fist when I step outside. I’m still adjusting to these weather swings—blistering hot during the day, cool at night. Blame that for my hermit routine; easier to stay in myroom, binge rom-coms, and watch other people get their happy endings while mine’s still decidedly up in the air.
The dirt trail winds through the woods toward the guest cabins. And then I see him.
Griffin. Shirtless. Muscles gleaming with sweat as he bends over a sawhorse, dark curls damp under his hat.
I clutch the box tighter. My heart’s pounding louder than his saw.
“Sweet Jesus.” I swear, I mean for the words to stay inside my skull. Seems my mouth has other ideas.
