Tell Me You Crave Me (Search and Seduce #3)(5)

That fueled the fire she had been tamping down. One, because she wasn’t thinking of his dick. Okay, maybe she was. Kind of. Whatever! He didn’t need to know that. And second, “I’m not a good girl! Now get out of here.”

“Sorry, can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re okay.”

She rolled her eyes. Was that why he’d followed her? Because he was worried about her? The guy needed to realize he was the reason she was upset in the first place.

“I’m fine. I don’t need your ‘saving’ or your pity. Now leave.”

“Sweet thing like you shouldn’t be left alone in your state of distress,” he said with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

He was doing the same thing he’d done all their lives. Teasing her. Flicking little words and retorts that got under her skin. God, he knew her so well. He got a rise out of her, and that fire made her forget about being awkward and pushed her to simply speak her mind. Not that knowing this made it any easier to resist. He wanted to challenge her? Game on. He was going down.

She set the bottle on the counter, squared her shoulders, and hit him with a hard glare she could feel all the way to her toes. Power. She harnessed whatever kind she had, and she took aim at that big playboy pain in her ass.

“Easton Ambrose…” Her voice came out as a deep rasp that clearly got his attention because he straightened his posture. “Call me a good girl one more time, and I’ll show you just how wrong you are.”

There was a spell of silence, but even in the low light, she could see his perfect smile. “Oh darlin’, you’re all things good.” He took a step inside, and the door closed behind him. Her blood heated another degree. Challenge. He wasn’t backing down. He was coming after her. Again. And she’d rise. She would rise this time.

“And sweet,” he said, adding that extra bit of What are you going to say to that? attitude. He came up to the counter. The only thing separating them was that, a triple tier of her best cupcakes sitting near the register for presentation tomorrow morning, and the bottle of bourbon.

That and the fact that he was all but her brother. If only they didn’t have this history—

Whoa. Where had that thought came from? What did it matter what he was to her? He was off-limits. Period.

“In fact,” he said, “you’re so good and so sweet, I think you’ll go down in history as the Best Friend of Beaufort.” With that, he swiped his finger along one of her pristine gourmet cupcakes on display and licked the frosting from his finger.

Oh, he was really f*cking with her now.

“You prick!” she said, and grabbed up the now-ruined mini chocolate cake.

“Come on, Nat, lighten up. I’ll pay for it.”

But that wasn’t the point. He was standing there, in her shop, eating her frosting, telling her she was sweet? Telling her she was nothing more than Beaufort’s town buddy? No. She couldn’t take it anymore. She was face-to-face with the last man who’d ever call her sweet again. Especially when she was feeling anything but.

“You have no idea who I really am.” She stepped toward him. “I’m capable of way, way more than sweet.”

East shot her a look like he was examining a baby duck trying to fly for the first time. But just before she bought into that look, she saw a flash of lust in his eyes, especially when those eyes landed on her mouth, then her breasts. But he recovered quickly and patted the top of her head. “Just because you got a new dress, doesn’t change anything. You’re still sweet, darlin’.”

His words made her anger rise, but his gaze told a different story. Had he just done a double take? He had! He’d totally just checked her out! She wasn’t certain the first time, but she was now.

Easton Ambrose wanted her.

Her!

Holee-crap-on-a-cracker!

“Maybe not,” she said, determined to not only challenge him right back, but to force his acknowledgment. “But you seem to appreciate the dress.”

He snapped his eyes away and shrugged like he hadn’t just been staring down her body. “Just wondering where the rest of it was. You think your brother would let you—”

“My brother lets me do nothing. I let myself do what I want. Because I’m a grown woman. When are you going to stop being an idiot?”

“Oh, I’m the idiot?” His voice rose a tad. “You’re the one out there chasing a loser guy who apparently can’t see jack shit.”

She moved around the counter to face him head on, because it’d be easier to scratch his eyes out if she were toe-to-toe with him.

“Actually…” She nudged his chest with a pointed finger. “I ran from him because you’re right—he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.” She tapped his chest again, her other hand still holding the cupcake he’d desecrated. She knew they were talking about different things now. But she didn’t care. It was time to call a spade a spade. Or an East an East.

“Don’t push me, Natalie. That’s not very nice.” He was so close, looming over her, his warm breath hitting her mouth and his clean masculine scent surrounding her.

“I don’t feel very nice right now.” She tapped his shoulder again just to prove a point, and he gave a low growl. “Oh?” she said with mock concern. “Does that not feel good? Getting bossed around? Someone telling you what you are and what you’re not?” She tapped him again, and this time he took a step back, so she took a step forward until he was only a foot away from the counter.