Page 73 of That Conflicted Feeling
“Notsulking.”Shetentatively steps one sandaled foot on the pebbly path. “Justdon’t need your help.”
Sostubborn.Idrop my hand to my side. “Ifyou say so.”
Thestones shift under my feet asIturn away and head down. “YellowBarnwould be great forWarmSprings, though.Itmight drag it into the twenty-first century.”
“There’snothing wrong with maintaining the heritage and spirit of a town.”Hervoice gets farther behind me asItramp down the slope.She’sobviously finding it slow going. “Imagineif everywhere looked exactly the sa—Aaargh!”
There’sa loud rattle of pebbles.Iturn around to see her sliding toward me as if she’s on skis, arms outstretched as she tries to regain her balance, mouth wide open and emitting a cry that vibrates in time with the bumps of the pebbles under her feet.
BeforeIcan reach out to catch her, she slams right into me.Andgrabs me around the waist to steady herself.
Theforce of the impact rocks me backward.
Christ,Ican’t afford to fall and bang my head on a rock.Ihave shit to do that requires me to not be concussed.
Ilean into her downhill momentum and manage to keep us both upright.
Herface is squashed against my chest.
Shemust be able to hear my heart beating.It’sracing, not just from the fear of flying backward to my potential doom down a steep, pebbly path, but also because the body of my fiercest challenger is unexpectedly flattened firmly against mine.
Ourchests rise and fall in rapid time with each other, the mounds of her breasts pressing against my lower ribs.
Myhands come to rest on her hips, my fingers finding the lines of her underwear through the thin dress.Holyfuck.Thehottest opponentI’veever had wears panties held together with something resembling fine string.There’sa rush of blood to my crotch asIimagine slipping my fingers under the sides and sliding them off.
“It’sgood that you didn’t need any help,”Itell the sweet-smelling top of her head.
Sheslaps her hands on my chest and pushes away.ThankGod, or she was about to feel more than my chest beating against her.
“Didyou bring me here to kill me?”Herface is half hidden by hair that fell across it with the impact. “Bringingyour nemesis to a remote private island where theyaccidentallyfall down a rocky path is all veryAgathaChristie.”
BeforeIrealizeI’mdoing it,I’vescooped her hair across her forehead and off her face. “Youknow,Ididn’t even think of that.”Ituck the stray strands behind her ear. “You’reclearly even more cunning than me.”
Shelooks down at the few inches of space between us, her eyes visible over the top of her sunglasses, their lashes batting up and down.Thesmooth skin of her forehead has a dewy glow, and her cheeks are flushed, probably with the embarrassment of crashing into me.But, goodGod,Ihope it’s also because she feels the heat between us.Thetype of heat that’s not caused by the sun.
Thoughthe shock of finding her body plastered against mine has faded, the thumping of my heart hasn’t.AndI’mpretty sure hers hasn’t either.Thepale skin of her chest looks even more kissable than it did in the helicopter as it rises and falls against the neckline of her dress.
Idrop her hair behind her ear and run the back of my fingers down her cheek and along her jawline.Hereyelids stop batting and come to rest closed.
Fora moment it feels like we’re going to stand here, frozen in time, forever.Butthen she slowly drops her lips to meet my hand, and the heart that she joked was softening surges with the need for those lips on mine right now.
Ilift her face and lower my mouth to hers, brushing my bottom lip across her cupid’s bow, as she flicks out her tongue and tickles me with it.
Herhips sink toward mine as our tongues meet, dissolving all thoughts of work, the new store, and the council vote.Ilose myself in a slow, warm kiss that’s so much more intimate than the fumble in the llama shed.
Theworld is silent, apart from the thumping of my heart and the water lapping on the pebbles.
Thatis, untilPolly’sstomach emits a long, low growl.
Herlips break into a smile against mine, andIrest my forehead against hers. “Hungry?”
Shenods. “Iskipped breakfast.”
“Thenit’s a good jobIplanned ahead.”EventhoughIcould spend the whole day—andChristknows how many more days after it—with my body against hers, our lips locked together,Iturn my back to her and press her hands on either side of my waist. “Thisway.Andhold on tight this time.”
Weshuffle down the stony slope like kids pretending to be a train till we reach the bottom. “Herewe are.”
Shecontinues to hold onto my waist and rests her cheek against my arm to look around me. “Oh, wow.It’sa mini beach.”
