No Perfect Hero(25)

“But I’m not on your watch. It’s not your job to watch over me,” I fire back. This tension between us bristles, but it’s a hot thing, charged and sparking and making the air around me feel too warm. “Why do you think Dennis Bress would kill me, anyway?”

“Because you’re flinging his name around as a potential suspect, for starters,” he growls, eyes narrowing. “Why the hell do you think it was Bress?”

“I don’t. You do. He’s the one you were snapping about when you grabbed me the first day.” I eye him. “Mr. Bress is nice. I don’t think he did shit, or if he was after you then you must’ve done something.”

“I didn’t—” He breaks off with a thunder-hiss under his breath, tilting his head back like he's asking for patience, breathing slow as he drags a hand over his face. “Look. Hay. You really have no idea what’s going on or what you’re talking about. But if you need a job this bad, I can make a few phone calls in Spokane. Missoula. Coeur d'Alene. Anywhere but here.”

“Right. You seem to be making phone calls everywhere.” I smirk. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Dammit, Haley!” Suddenly he’s close again, before I can even blink.

Clasping my shoulders, his heat and power everywhere. Even if he’s all fierce mountain wild, his touch is so gentle, like he’s trying to keep me from breaking in his grip as he stares down with smoldering eyes.

“Warren...”

“No. Don’t you get it? I’m not trying to be some kind of controlling asshole for the fun of it. I can’t tell you what’s going on here. I can’t. Plain can’t tell you why you need to be far, far away from me. But if there were any other way, I’d leave you alone. Live and let live. Trust me when I say I can't, and it's for your own good.”

I'm shaking my head, anger flicking through my stomach again. I pinch my eyes shut.

“What good is that?”

“Everybody's. I couldn’t stand it if you or Tara end up hurt or dead thanks to my bad business.”

Hurt? Dead? My tongue ties itself in knots.

I don’t get how he does this to me every single time he’s near. It’s like this scent – this rough raw scent of aftershave and something like hot metal and pure male sex – just crawls inside me and smothers my thoughts.

Until all I can think of is the feeling of his heat prickling on my skin, making words meaningless.

Holy hell.

If this is an attraction, a crush, then I must not have ever known it before, because no one ever made me feel like this.

Not Eddy. Not my college boyfriends. Not even the too-perfect-for-life men you find in movies and books.

And the worst part is, Warren isn't even trying to deliver these torrid, ridiculous feels.

He's just too intense. It radiates from him in this aura, this energy field of crackling lightning.

Stand too close, and he’ll catch you up in it and consume you.

As he stares down at me, something in his expression changes. Something tense, something hot, and then I can feel it in the charge pulsing through me, starting in my lips and centering lower. I feel it in every tiny hint of space vanishing between us as he leans closer.

Only for the sound of a stomping foot to cut us off as Tara shrieks from the open back door of our duplex.

“You leave her alone!” she shouts, rocketing out, all pint-sized fury, her little fists clenched and beating ineffectively against Warren’s thigh. “Don’t you hurt my auntie!”

That's our cue to break apart, end whatever weird, layered thing keeps almost happening but doesn't.

Warren holds both hands up, breathing shallowly, looking down at Tara with wide blue eyes. “Whoa. Hey. Hey, now. Slow down, kitten. I wasn’t hurting nobody.”

Tara glares at him, shoulders scrunched up, her face twisted in a mask of protective ferocity. I’d hug her if I wasn’t so shaken, trembling, pressing my hands over my face and trying to calm the racing of my heart.

“Liar!” she accuses. “She’s gonna cry.”

I shake my head quickly, dropping my hands and forcing a smile. “No tears here, Tara. I’m okay. Just a little startled. Warren surprised me, that’s all.”

Warren stares between us, hands still held up like he’s facing down the cops.

“For the record, munchkin...” He licks his lips, then says, “I wasn’t gonna hurt your aunt. I was gonna kiss her.”

What?! I'm physically rocked back by his words.

He slowly lowers his arms, and darts me an uncertain glance before looking back at Tara, offering a reassuring smile. “I just wanted to hold her because I wanted to kiss her.”

Instead of slowing down, my heart nearly does a full somersault. I stare at him, my mouth dry.

He’s joking, right? Just trying to calm Tara down and explain without frightening her?

But after that charged moment where our eyes locked, Warren leaning closer...

I’m not sure of anything.

And I’m not sure what I would've actually done, if that domineering, stubborn jackass had kissed me.

Tara frowns, tilting her head, her scowl easing as she looks at Warren, puzzled. “You...you like Auntie Hay?”

Warren grins, easy and warm. “Yeah.”