Page 41 of Mountain Grump
Not many people can stare me down. My heterochromia usually throws them off, and they end up looking back and forth between my eyes, trying to confirm that my irises are, in fact, different colors.
It’s never bothered me. But Tilda… I like that she doesn’t do that.
I like that she looks at me like she’s seen me a hundred times before.
Like she’s used to me.
She narrows her eyes. “Are you following me?”
It’s so hard not to smile around this girl.
And that’s not something I’m used to.
I’m not a smiley type of guy.
“Well?” She lifts her brows.
This time, I don’t fight the urge, and I let the edges of my mouth pull up.
She’s acting put out over my presence, but she’s also not telling me to let go of her hair.
“I was getting gas. I’m not stalking you.” I flex my fingers, and I appreciate how soft the strands of her hair feel against my rough palm. “Tell me what the pool is for, and I’ll help you strap it down.”
I peek into the bed of the truck, confirming there are no ratchet straps visible. They could be in the back seat, but I doubt it.
“If you call me ridiculous again?—”
I shake my head. “I won’t.” Remembering the look on her face when I did, I stroke my thumb across the smooth skin behind her ear. “I never should’ve called you that. I’m sorry.”
She stares up at me. Looking… stunned.
Like no one has ever apologized to her before.
And I hate that look on her face almost as much as I hated her tears.
My shifted grip sends strands of hair flying again.
I release my hold of her hair, then use both hands to pull all her hair back. It takes a couple tries, but once I have a hold of it, I grip it with one hand at the back of her head like a ponytail.
I pull my baseball hat off and pass her hair through the hole in the back, then tug the bill down to secure it onto her head.
Too late, I realize it’s probably damp from sweat, but Tilda doesn’t recoil.
She doesn’t pull away.
But she’s not looking me in the eye anymore.
No, she’s looking at my mouth.
I slide my tongue over my bottom lip, wetting it. And I swear she sucks in a breath.
Fuck.
My body reacts without my permission. My stomach muscles tighten, like they always do around her. My balls throb. My cock…
I drop my hands from the hat. “Keep your back to the wind, and it’ll stay on.”
She nods.
