Rev It Up (Black Knights Inc. #3)(35)
Crap.
She knew what she needed to do. She needed to go downstairs, walk into her bright, welcoming kitchen, and play the part of the good hostess. Give her guest the lowdown on the accommodations. All those little things, like where to find fresh towels and soap…
But her kitchen didn’t seem very bright and welcoming right now, because it currently housed the one man on the entire planet she’d sworn to avoid like last week’s fish tacos. The one man who could—no, would break her heart again if she gave him the chance. The one man capable of crushing her hard-won resolve with only a kiss.
Oh, that kiss…
It made her remember too much and not enough all at the same time. It was terrible. And wonderful. And so, so dangerous…
With dread weighing down her heart, she softly closed the door to her son’s room and made her way downstairs, through the living room, and into the kitchen.
And then she momentarily forgot about everything, because there he was.
The man who inspired all her hottest fantasies. The same one who embodied all her worst fears…
“I checked the perimeter,” he said, not bothering to turn toward her as he worked at something on the far counter. “Everything looks good. That security system Boss installed for you is top notch. You don’t have anything to worry about. You’re completely safe here.”
Yeah, right. Physically she might be safe, but emotionally? Now that was another matter entirely.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he finally turned away from the counter only to find her frowning at his back. His very broad, very strong, very drool-worthy back. Dangit, Michelle! You have too much sense for this! “I helped myself to some tea.” He held up two mugs, steaming and filling the air with rich aroma.
“You’ll have to finish both,” she told him, refusing the mouthwatering temptation of a warm nightcap combined with a sexy man. Because, you know, there was an empty sofa in the next room…
“Oh, come on, Shell,” he winked and lifted one of the mugs. “It’s your favorite. Chamomile.”
She wished the fact that he remembered that didn’t affect her so.
“I can’t,” she said. “I’m about two minutes away from needing a pair of toothpicks to prop open my eyelids.”
Not really. She’d be hard-pressed to get any sleep tonight given everything that’d happened. Oh yeah, and then there was the fact that Jake was going to be sleeping three doors down from her. A measly twenty feet away. Sprawled all over her guest bed. Naked…
At least that’s how she imagined it would be.
God, help me!
“Extra towels are in the hall closet along with extra soap. I put clean sheets on the guest bed.” The one you’ll be sprawled in. Naked. Frickin’ frackin’ fudge! “Feel free to scrounge anything from the fridge or pantry you want. Although, I see you’ve already done that, so just,” she made a rolling motion with her hand, “carry on.”
There. Hostess duties complete. Now turn around, get your butt upstairs, and forget he’s in your house.
Uh-huh. Right. Like that was possible. Still, the first step was to take the first step. Literally.
“Goodnight, Jake,” she said, swinging back into the living room.
“You head upstairs right now, and all you’ll do is toss and turn.” He set the mugs of tea on the kitchen table.
Busted.
Warily, she turned and watched as he lifted a brow at the roses. “Pretty flowers. Weird color though.”
“Did you pick it?” she asked, trying and failing not to drool over the bunch and twist of his tanned muscles as he leaned over to smell the roses.
“What?” He straightened.
“The color of the roses?”
“What are you talking about?” His brow furrowed.
“Oh, uh, nothing. I just…I thought maybe they were from you.”
He smiled, and the flash of his dimples had her heart pounding. “When I send you roses, doll, you’ll know they’re from me. They’ll be blood red, none of this blue shit, and they’ll come complete with a card that declares my undying love.”
“Stop.” She raised a hand.
“Shell—”
“I’m tired, and I’m going to bed.” End of discussion.
“There are still things we still need to talk about.”
Oh Lord.
He could not keep telling her he loved her.
Not when she kept fanaticizing about him naked, not when his kiss had caused all those delicious, awful memories to rise too close to the surface, making her feel vulnerable and lost. And certainly not when the fear of what her brother had inadvertently involved her in made her long to seek the comfort of a strong set of arms.
Because she just might convince herself to believe him. And if she convinced herself to believe him then—
No. He doesn’t love me. It’s lust. It’s just unsatiated lust…
“We said everything that needed to be said,” she hastily informed him, taking a loose-kneed step back toward the living room, which was made all the more difficult considering each of her feet weighed about two-hundred pounds.
And then his next words stopped her in her tracks.
“I haven’t slept with another woman in over two years,” he said.