A Single Glance (Irresistible Attraction #1)(21)

“That’s-”

I cut her off. “Not necessary to be included in a contract regarding how you’ll be paying me back.” I lean forward, holding her gaze. “I choose to answer your questions as a gesture of goodwill.”

“And you’ll continue to?” she pushes.

“I don’t have a single problem answering every question you have. Tit for tat.” She gives a small nod of acknowledgement, but nothing else.

Time passes and Bethany chooses not to push for that to be in writing.

“How will you be questioning me?” she asks and a warmth flows through me, the tension lighting slowly, crackling between us like a smoldering fire.

“Sign first,” I answer, swallowing thickly as I pass the paper to her, followed by the pen. Her fingers brush against mine, gentle but hot. The sensation travels from my knuckle all the way up my arm, the nerve endings coming alive with heat.

My throat’s dry and my blood hot just thinking about her allowing me to show her.

“You realize I’ll never believe I owe you anything?” she questions me, a simple statement, so matter of fact.

“You owe me your life for that stupid shit you pulled. Whether you want to believe that or not.”

She picks at some indiscernible fuzz on the blanket before whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Remorse and conflict swirl in her gaze, but she’s quick to hide it from me.

“I like that you’re less angry.”

“That happens when I greet the bottom of a green glass bottle with a label that reads Cabernet.” Her tone is muted, but she gives a small huff of a laugh, and lets a smile kiss her lips for only a moment.

“I need to know what you’re going to do to me,” she says before clearing her throat. “I’m not na?ve. I know … I know you can do what you want. I know you may lie to me, hurt me, fuck me, whatever it is you intend to do, I’m not stupid.” I can hear her swallow and then she adds, “But what if I did go along with it? Would you really tell me what happened to her?” Her eyes gloss over and her voice softens.

“A question for a question,” I tell her. “An answer for an answer.”

“You’re going to be disappointed with my answers,” she says with a weary note to her voice. “She barely told me anything. I was speaking out of anger when I saw you.”

“You came to my bar, you looked for my family. You tried to shoot me.” With every sentence, she cowers more and more. “There’s a reason for those actions.” She nods solemnly.

“What are you going-”

“Just sign,” I cut her off and she moves her focus to the empty glass. My pulse is racing, my nerves on edge. And yet, she looks so … unaffected by the weight of what’s to come. Like some part of her has given in.

“I need this as much as you do.”

Her huff is nothing but sarcastic. Easy, I remind myself. Go easy on her now. It will be different later.

“It will be an escape from the pain if nothing else. You need it,” I tell her and this time her expression changes slightly, as if she’s so very aware of the agony that mourning is. It’s also an aphrodisiac. There is never a more relevant time to be touched, or to be loved than when someone you love is gone.

“You want another glass?” I offer with a slight teasing tone to lighten the mood, an asymmetric grin pulling at my lips when she peeks up at me through her thick lashes.

“I may have had more than enough already.”

The sofa groans as she leans back on it, reading the single sheet of paper once again.

The faint light from the disappearing sun kisses her skin as the loose shirt slips down her shoulder and she has to readjust it. She doesn’t look back at me as she does. With her legs bent, her bare feet resting on the edge of the sofa and a thin blanket thrown over her lap, she looks far too casual for this moment.

As if that exposed skin of hers wasn’t everything I’ve been thinking about since I first saw her across the bar. As if I don’t want to rip that shirt off of her and devour every inch of her body with open-mouth kisses, dragging my teeth along her skin and making her that much more sensitive for what I’m going to do to her.

There are moments in time, pauses in your reality, where you realize this instant will be a memory forever. Something that will never leave you. I’ll remember this one forever.

I hope I never forget how the adrenaline is rushing through me, how eager I am. I want to remember it all. Every single detail.

I’ll remember it, and I’ll have to, because I’m going to lose her. She’s not meant to be mine.

That doesn’t mean I won’t take her, though.

“If I say no?” she asks, her wide hazel eyes searching mine for something.

“It doesn’t happen.” There’s no hesitation in my answer.

“If I say stop?”

“It stops.”

“Why do it then? Why would you do this?” she asks with her brow furrowed.

“Because I know you want it. I know you need it.” She’s silent in return.

“This would never hold up in court,” she says, finally breaking the quiet.

“I have no desire to ever see you in a courtroom, Miss Fawn. I didn’t even intend to write this down; I only did it because I thought you would respond better, maybe even listen to what I’m offering, if it was written in black and white.”