Page 671 of Hell Hath No Fury
Attraction crackled between us, hot and charged.
My fingers curled into fists at my sides as Foster’s head dipped toward mine, his breath whispering across my lips. I could feel my mouth plumping at the mere thought of his kiss.
He stumbled back, his eyes wide as if he was shocked by his own behavior.
I sucked in a breath.
We stared at each other, confused.
Not just confused. My body was taut, completely unsatisfied with his sudden distance.
“This was a bad idea,” he said, voice hoarse, before he turned to leave.
Gathering myself, I called after him, “I can look after Georgie until you find someone.”
Foster glanced back at me. “Like I said, I think that would be a terrible idea.”
It was clear, despite our personality clash and age difference, that there was a physical attraction between us. One I wasquite willing to ignore now that my mind wasn’t lust-fogged by his proximity. Yet, Foster was so horrified by the idea of being attracted to me, he didn’t even want to be near me?
Well, that just pissed me off.
“Scared?” I taunted.
He turned. “Excuse me?”
Ignoring his dangerous tone, I continued, “You have no logical reason for turning down my very kind offer. Unless you’re such a snob that you can’t associate with a massage therapist with no known blue blood in her family history?”
“You’re determined to think the worst of me.”
I shrugged. “Change my mind.”
“Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll leave for work a little later tomorrow so I can be there to explain to Georgie you’ll be watching her this week. But I usually leave at six thirty. Is that too early?”
“Not at all.”
“Fine.”
“What time shall I come over?”
“Seven fifteen.”
“I’ll see you then.”
His eyes flicked down my body one last time, and I saw a muscle tick in his jaw before he marched out of sight down the side of the house. Without saying good night.
“We really need to work on his manners.”
* * *
The jewelry in my store held Georgie transfixed. I watched her look over the stands and towers and glass cabinets filled with jewelry, some costume, some handmade in precious metals. After I’d dropped her off at school yesterday morning, I’d switched around some of my clients so that all my appointmentsended before the school day did. Those who couldn’t accommodate, my three other massage therapists covered.
Raven, a friend from high school whose real name was Mindy Watts, managed my store during the day. Growing up she’d been envious of the unusual names my parents had given me and my sisters, and so she’d adopted the name Raven. To be fair, she looked way more like a Raven than a Mindy.
I’d let Raven go home to her teenage kids early, since Georgie and I could watch the shop until Foster showed. We did her homework in between customers.
The first day with Georgie went well, though slightly awkward. She was a shy kid who didn’t talk much. That didn’t worry me. I used to be a shy kid. What worried me was the sadness in her eyes. No five-year-old should be that glum or serious.
My phone beeped on the counter, and I saw it was a text from Foster. Swiping my phone screen, I leaned in to read it.
