Burn for Me(28)

Her chest felt heavy as she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Let’s just keep this thing between you and me for now. Friends and all,” she added, as if to justify her reasons. She had to focus on the friendship simply to preserve it.

Something dark passed over his eyes, but then he nodded quickly, fixing a serious look on his face. He let go of her arm.

…

Smith prided himself on being easygoing. He tried hard not to let things get to him. And he certainly wasn’t known for a short temper. So it took every ounce of self-control not to say something hurtful to match what he felt inside.

Through gritted teeth, he spoke under his breath. “So let me see if I understand this. I’m good enough for you to get down on your knees in my hallway. To help with business. And you’ll even happily play Mad Libs in my truck,” he said, watching as she cringed with his reminders of all they’d done. “But having dinner with your sister is where you draw the line?”

“Smith,” she said, fidgeting with the cuffs of her sweater, as she tried desperately to look anywhere but in his eyes.

“Smith what?” he asked sharply.

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like? Enlighten me.”

“We’re not doing a relationship,” she said, her voice cool and even. “So I don’t know why we’d do that. We’re friends, and I want to stay that way.”

“You told me you think I’m just fun and easygoing, but you also said you wanted serious. I’m trying to be serious by spending time with you and your family. To show you I can be that guy. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I do,” she said in a careful voice, as if it were a question.

The silence clung to him, and in the span of several painful seconds, the answer to her question dawned on him.

“Just not with me,” he said, and he didn’t bother to keep the anger from his voice this time. He hadn’t planned for this, but after last night, and the way they connected today, he didn’t expect this kind of brush-off.

“That’s not it.”

“Were you just slumming it with me in the bedroom?”

She furrowed her brows. “What?”

Anger and shame rolled through him, fueling his words. “You liked fucking me because I’m not proper, I’m not a poet, I’m not the romantic sensitive perfect guy. You like the wild side. But I’m never gonna be the kind of guy you want to take home to your parents.”

Her lips parted, and she tried to say something but nothing came out. Her mouth hung open as if she were struggling to find an answer. And that was all the answer he needed. It had been a week, and he thought he’d won both her heart and her body, but when it came right down to it, he was only the dirty-talking fireman to her. He was a joyride, a wild and dirty escape for her. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised—she’d laid down the rules, after all: one week of sex, and that week had drawn to a close.

He stripped the anger from his voice. He didn’t want her to know how much he cared. So much that her dismissal of him felt like a hard punch in the ribs. “I get it. It’s cool. And, I really appreciate the offer of help from your sister. But I have this under control. And, by the way, it’s been a fun week, hasn’t it? But it’s over now, so thanks for the memories, and I need to get back to work so I can finish this bar and get out of your way.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, her lips quivering, her eyes brimming.

He turned around, jammed the headphones back on his ears, and drowned out thoughts of her as he listened to music and forced himself to do nothing but work, work, work all day so he could be done with this project and have one less chance of running into Jamie.





Chapter Twelve

More games. More music. Maybe a live band.

That was as much as Jamie picked up during the impromptu meeting. Because her mind was elsewhere.

“What do you think, Jamie? You know this town well. Which of those ideas would work best?”

The question came from Becker, as he picked up his glass of beer and took a drink. It was the end of the night, The Panting Dog was closed, and Becker, Kaitlyn and Jamie were discussing final ideas for the Spring Festival.

Correction: Supposed to be.

Jamie kept replaying the afternoon run-in with Smith, trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong. Smith was so laid-back and cool, so devil-may-care, that it had surprised her to learn he did care. A lot.

“A band would be great,” she said, seizing onto the last suggestion. She wanted to play a vital role in the operations of The Panting Dog. She couldn’t let on that she’d been drifting off during this whole conversation, thinking of Smith the entire time. The way he made her laugh. The way he teased her. How he understood her, and what made her tick, in ways no one else did. How he liked all sides of her, and how he had such a sweet, tender side too.