Page 27 of Summer Ever After
“The real question is”—he leans his shoulder against the side of the shop, crossing his ankles in a way that’s far too sexy for a man as good-looking as Walker—“why are you prickly toward me? You seemed just fine when you were talking with Dax. Some might even sayflirtingwith Dax.”
My mouth drops, and the scoff of all scoffs spits out. “I wasn’t flirting with Dax.” I wasattemptingto flirt with Dax, and since he was unresponsive, it doesn’t count. “And I’m not prickly. I just know how you are.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets, adding to the appeal of his shoulder-lean stance. “How am I?”
“You’re wasting your time. I’m immune to all of this.” I wave my finger in front of his manliness.
“Your sights are set elsewhere. I can see why you werewith Beau Palmer. He’s a nice guy. But Dax? He’s nice too, just not really your type.”
I take a step forward, lining my eyes up with his. Sarcasm drips like oil off each word I say. “I appreciate the feedback. However, I don’t need a dating endorsement from you.”
“But you want one.” His lips spread into a cocky smile that does stupid things to my heart.
Heart problems are a great reason to leave.
“Lunch break is over,” I say again. “I need to get to work.”
“Hey, Jane?” Walker catches my wrist as I turn to go, tugging me back to him. His hold on my skin feels like the best physical-touch moment of my life, and it’s just a wrist. “I can’t let you leave like this.”
I’m proud of the indifferent expression on my face. “Why? Is this the last time I’ll see you for the rest of my life?”
That cute smile of his just gets better. “I hope not.”
His free hand lifts, and before I know what’s happening, his thumb gently grazes the spot to the side of my mouth.
I take it back. His hand on my wrist is thesecond-bestphysical-touch moment of my life.
Whatever this is, is the first.
His thumb rubs again, and all I can do is stare at his smirk as his eyes focus on that part of my face.
“You have grease on your cheek.” Laughing eyes flip to me as he continues to brush my skin with his finger. “Probably from that toolbox attached to your chain.” His smirk grows to a beaming smile.
Now would be a great time for a rebuttal, but his touch has stolen every rational thought in my brain.
“There.” He drops his hand. “I think I got it. You’re good to go to work.”
I stare at him for two seconds—the amount of time it takes me to snap out of his magnetism.
“I could’ve wiped my own face.” I spin, speed-walking myself right out of his reach. “You’re giving off creepy vibes again.”
“I was being nice,” he calls after me.
No, you were being charming.
What’s even happening?
First, Walker pulls something out of my hair, and then he wipes something off my cheek.
This is trope Hell.
And I definitely feel the heat.
Walker
There’s a twinkle in Grandma Deedee’s eyes as I make my way across the grass back to her patio.
“It looks like you've finished your physical therapy.” I sit down in the same chair as before.
