Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(73)

Kristy watched the four depart, Risk taking Addie to task for her quip with a mock abusive kiss. She couldn’t help but smile at their playfulness. Their joie de vivre. She wanted that. She wanted affection, too, aching for it as she watched Julian pull Mollie against his side and plant a kiss at her temple.

Wait a minute. She’d shut desire down a long time ago, when Eye had threatened the guy with whom she’d gone on a first date. Who could want romance when a stalker continually called with his threats and orders and admonitions? Where had this gut-wrenching ache come from?

Kristy turned to Griff, who was hosing himself down. He ruffled his fingers through his hair and soaked down his shirt. Like her, he wasn’t exposing more than he had to. His shirt, though, clung to his muscular build, and his khakis molded to his ass and legs. She swallowed a sigh.

She bet he’d shut down that part of himself, too. They’d had that moment, and then he’d yanked down the wall and said he was flirting with her for the camera. The film crew was packing up, making plans to join the other four for dinner. Griff wouldn’t be able to use that excuse if he slipped into the playful mode again.

She needed to get him there.

He looked up as she approached. “Here comes trouble.”

She suspected he meant that in more than one way. “And don’t you forget it.”

He met her gaze, looking all too serious. “I won’t.” Then the serious mask slipped as she kept advancing, and he held the nozzle out like a pistol. “Back off, woman. I see that predatory gleam in your eye.”

She froze for a second, thinking he’d seen her desire. Then she realized she was still covered in mud, and he thought she was going to slime him. She raised her arms to her sides. “You could hose me off, neutralize the threat.”

“Mmm, don’t tempt me.”

Was he tempted? She hoped so, because something about Griff pulled and tugged at her. She wanted to make him laugh again, to smile a lot. She wanted him.

He used his chin to point to the outdoor showers. “There are showers, you know.”

“I know.” But she remained in position, amazed at her brazenness. She simply wasn’t like this around men. Even before Eye.

He put a kink in the hose, unscrewed the nozzle, and let the water flow again. “All right, come here, trouble.”

He held the hose above her head, and the water poured over her face and down the front of her. She tilted her head, closed her eyes, and sank into the sensation of the cool water. The day had been warm, but now the early fall evening was cooling down as the sun sank in the sky. Griff ruffled his fingers through her hair as he’d done for his own. Heaven. Gently, tentatively, he worked the mud out of the strands. His fingers brushed her back through the net.

“Kristy.”

“Hmm?”

“Er, you should probably…”

She opened her eyes to see him gesturing to her body. “Oh. Yes, of course.” She thought about taking off the net cover-up, which would make washing off the mud easier. But she worked out the dirt the best she could, sticking the hose beneath her bikini top and even down into the bottoms to get everything out. When she glanced up, Griff averted his gaze.

“Here.” She handed him the hose. “Is there another one? I could help you hose these Jeeps down. It’s getting dark fast.”

“You should probably get on back to the lodge. The camera guys are about to head out. Get yourself some dinner with the rest of the group. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He didn’t want to spend time with her. Old insecurities reared their head, pushing her to turn and leave. “Should I bring you something?”

“No, but thanks. I’m going to throw some burgers on the fire pit.”

“That sounds nice. Mind if I just stay here with you? I’m not really up for a lot of socializing.”

A sound rumbled from deep in his throat. Agony? Hunger? He handed her the hose and headed over to the showers to pull out another hose, then went to work on the next Jeep.

Okay. Well, he hadn’t said no. That was a start, anyway. But what is it the start of?





CHAPTER 3


Griff watched the marshmallow at the end of his stick bubble and burn and eventually drip into the fire pit’s flames. Dumb idea to roast marshmallows. At first, all he could think about was his charred skin. At least these smelled good.

It had been worth it to see the delight on Kristy’s face when he’d suggested it. “Like a campfire!” she’d said, clapping her hands together.

They’d cooked burgers, and he’d scrounged up carrots for her ’cause she wanted a healthy side. She wasn’t one of those women who picked and ate like a bird though. She’d eaten two burgers, a handful of the fries he’d thrown in the oven, and half the bag of carrots.

Now she was working on her third marshmallow. He liked a woman who ate. In fact, he’d had to pull his gaze away time and again before she caught him. Before she got the wrong idea.

And you have enough wrong ideas for the both of you.

Hell of a time to get his libido back. Well, it was knocking at his door anyway, reminding him that he hadn’t so much as taken a hand to himself since the explosion. She was going to be gone before long. And it was very likely he’d misinterpreted her flirting. Of course he had.

And now Lady Antebellum was on the radio, singing “Just a Kiss.”