Wrapped Up in You (Heartbreaker Bay, #8)(23)

“Oh, I do.” He stepped closer. “I also like to know things. All the things.”

She cocked her head. “Such as?”

“Such as why you didn’t really text Brandon even though you said you did.”

She was good. She didn’t show any physical reaction to this. And that in itself made him feel a little sick, because she was very good. Which not only gave him bad flashbacks to Gina, his friend and a longtime coworker who’d betrayed him without a qualm, but also his mom.

And it made him wonder what else Ivy had lied about.

“I didn’t bother texting Brandon because he never gets back to me,” she finally said and leaned back against the trailhead, letting her gaze drift down to his mouth.

He had to very carefully ignore that. “It sounds like your brother’s a guy of many talents.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

They were standing close, very close. Somehow his feet had taken him there so that they were nearly touching. Clearly his brain and body weren’t in sync. His body didn’t give a shit that she’d lied to him. “And how about you,” he murmured, watching her eyes go to half-mast from . . . his closeness? His voice? The way their bodies were straining to touch each other? “Are you a woman of many talents as well?” he murmured.

She shrugged and then reached out to brush a fallen leaf from his shoulder. Her fingers remained on him. “Maybe that’s something you should find out for yourself.”

He caught her hand in his and dipped his head to see into her eyes. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Is it working?”

Hell, yes. “I’ve got a question,” he said.

“Okay.”

“We’re not a we?”

She bit her lower lip. “As already established, I don’t really do . . . we.”

“But we’re . . . something,” he said.

After a long hesitation, she nodded.

They were a something. He could work with that. “So let’s make a pact. No more half-truths or misdirections from either of us.”

Her gaze was on his mouth. “Are you accusing these lips of lying?”

He let out a low laugh. “There’s a whole bunch of a lot of things I’ve been thinking about doing with those gorgeous lips of yours, Trouble, but accusing them of lying wasn’t on the evening’s program.”

“Good.” Her free hand slid up his chest and around the back of his neck. “It’s my turn to ask a question now.” Her fingers slid into his hair and fisted. “I bet you’re a good kisser.”

“That wasn’t a question,” he pointed out.

She smiled. “Are you a good kisser?”

“I’m an awesome kisser.”

“Prove it,” she said, “and I’ll answer another question.”

Best deal he’d heard all day. Hell, maybe all year. He slid one arm low around her hips and his other hand up her back to cup the nape of her neck. “Just to be clear,” he whispered a fraction of an inch from her lips. “You want me to kiss you.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, but just so we’re straight . . .” He held her gaze. “No regrets.”

Her mouth quirked. “I’m not making that promise until you’ve proven you’re any good.”

He was laughing. He’d thought there was nothing he’d not seen or done, but laughing while kissing someone . . . that just might be a first.

He released her, his fingers sliding through her hair as he brought her forward for a kiss. Cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs lightly brushing against her cheeks, he kissed her. Light at first, his lips just grazing hers as he absorbed her shiver before deepening the kiss. She tasted like Dee’s chocolate chip cookies and warm sexy woman, and she was delicious.

When he broke off, she made a soft sound that might’ve been a whimper for more. But that could’ve been wishful thinking on his part. It’d been a hell of a kiss, and he’d have liked to take it much further, except that the rest of the gang was coming; he could hear their footsteps crunching through the fallen foliage and leaves, maybe a hundred yards back.

He’d have liked to have more time, a lot more time. Seemed as if maybe she felt the same. Her pulse was beating frantically at the base of her throat, but she shrugged casually.

“Not bad,” she said.

He laughed.

And she smiled. “Okay, better than not bad.”

“I know. And now I get to ask a question.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, not sounding exactly enthusiastic.

“Your friends love and adore you. Why lie to them about your brother at all? They’d understand.”

Her smile faded. Mood killed. But that was okay, because his mind had wrestled the controls back from his body.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ivy said.

“Unfortunately, I do. You’re good at compartmentalizing your life. Work in one box. Friends in another. You’ve built walls, not allowing anything to get all the way through.” He paused. “How am I doing?”

She turned and started to walk off.

Guess he was doing pretty good then. “Ivy.”

She kept going.

He caught up with her and gently turned her to face him.