Burn for Me(12)

“I just might do that,” she said. “But I do appreciate you letting me weigh in on things around here.”

“Speaking of that, I have a meeting this evening. Talking to some of the other business owners on the town square. See how we can make the Spring Festival a success. If you have any ideas I’d love to hear them.”

Her eyes lit up. She was glad to be able to contribute, and she admired that Becker was so focused on business. He worked late, he worked early, he worked a lot, and his brain was always ticking. She respected that about him.

“More games,” she offered.

“More games?”

“Well, everyone loves to play Skee-Ball or Whac-A-Mole, so we just have to make sure we have as many of those options as possible.”

“Whac-A-Mole,” he said with a straight face, as he wrote something in a notebook. Was he writing down Whac-A-Mole? Becker really did take serious to new levels. That kind of discipline was admirable. “Got it.”

“I’ll think of some others as I’m prepping. We’ve got a wine tasting soon. I need to grab some bottles, but I’ll have on my thinking cap.”

“Great. Can’t wait.”

She stopped in the tiny office, dropped her purse on the chair, and then headed to the wine racks to consider the best selection. She was reaching for a pinot noir that had been raved about recently when she heard the back door open.

She swiveled around. There was Smith, carrying a toolbox in one hand and a stack of wood planks on his shoulder. The way he held the boards made his white T-shirt rise up, revealing smooth, tanned skin and muscles she’d run her fingernails over the night before. Why did he have to have abs she wanted to lick and pinch and bite?

Oh, right. Because he was the fireman women drooled over. He was the very reason there were fireman calendars, and fireman erotica, and let’s face it, fireman fantasies.

And she was having one right now. A red-hot one about him pinning her against the wall. Saying naughty things. Bringing her there again. Oh lord, what had happened to her? Evidently, last night hadn’t cured her at all.

It had only fanned the flames of her desire, and she was a twisted knot of emotions right now—wanting to feel nothing, but feeling so much for him. He might not be relationship material, but he sure was good-in-the-sack material. She didn’t want to risk her heart, but maybe there was a way to preserve it and satisfy these cravings. Rather than a one-night stand, perhaps she needed a one-week trip. Maybe that couple in her novel had the right idea. One week, no strings. And heck, with such a finite period of time, she could keep their friendship intact too.

First things first, though. Before she proposed something crazy—she was going to have to play it like he would. Be cool, be easy, be casual. Make it seem like last night was no big deal.

…

His shoulders tightened when he saw her.

“How’s Henrietta?” he said sharply, biting out the question. He hadn’t intended to sound harsh, not when he was also worried that he’d scared her off. But the fact was, he was annoyed too. Frustrated with the way she took off last night. He didn’t like being left, and he certainly didn’t enjoy being left after what they’d done. What they’d said. How they’d both admitted feelings for each other. To top it off, this damn construction job was taking longer than he’d wanted. Between her ditching him and the possibility of falling behind schedule, he wasn’t in his finest mood.

“Well?” he asked again, lowering the wood and the toolbox to the unfinished concrete floor. “Is she okay? Because I saw her on my drive home last night having a nice late night walk with your sister.”

Jamie swallowed and blinked. She tightened her hold on the bottle of wine, then finally met his gaze. But said nothing.

“You didn’t have to walk Henrietta,” he said, staring hard at her. Waiting for a reply. He held his hands out wide.

“I know,” she said, looking at her feet.

“So you lied. What was that about? You just took off.”

“Yeah. What of it?” she said with a steely-eyed coolness.

Whoa. This wasn’t the Jamie he knew. Something was wrong. Something was off. Jamie was feisty, Jamie was sassy, but Jamie was never blasé. Jamie always cared. About everything from her job to her family to beating his ass in bowling when she could.

Then it hit him. She regretted it. Whether because their night had tarnished their friendship, or because he’d come on too strong with his rough ways and his dirty mouth, when he should have started more slowly with her, taken his time. He had to rein in his annoyance over last night and over work and smooth things out with her. Say he was sorry for taking her against the wall, instead of taking her out to a candlelight dinner and wooing her properly.