Burned(26)

He froze. Bronze-statue stiff and unblinking. When he spoke, it was through clenched teeth with no movement in his jaw. “What do you know about that?”

“Nothing.” Worry and anger of her own congealed into a ball of acid in her gut. “I just know Sophie is your biggest button. Who upset her?”

“No one.” He shook his head and turned away. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Vic watched him try and fail to shrug it off, but she knew him well enough to know it did matter and he wasn’t ready to talk. If she pushed, he would lash out worse than he already had and the verbal fallout wouldn’t end with her.

She would pretend things were normal until he was ready to talk. And until he told her to go away, she was going to help him. Setting aside her plans for a blatant and fun flirtation in the middle of town, she circled behind him to pick up a can of paint, the stirrer, the can opener for the lid and a paint brush.

“Where would you like me to start?”

“I can get this done.” Rage stiffened his voice, but he tempered it. “You don’t need to take time from the salon to help.”

“That is the beautiful thing about this town. People are always willing to help.”

Bending at the waist, making sure he had a prime view of her legs, she opened the paint and began stirring it. Okay, so she wasn’t entirely shelving the idea of fun flirtations.

“Besides, the sooner you get this done, the sooner you will have time to create the haunted decorations you want to do for the pub.” Pointing to a nearby ladder, she smiled. “Why don’t you stand that up for me? I’ll take the top while you nail the bottom.”

His jaw dropped. She smiled. She couldn’t have planned the double meaning any better. Or the effect it so clearly had on him, judging by the bulge in his pants. A little more and the edges of his anger would smooth out.

“Really, Vic. Please go to your salon.” He stretched out the please so he sounded like he was seriously begging, but he grabbed the ladder and gripped the edges until his knuckles whitened. “The haunted pub isn’t going to happen this year.”

“You put that off every year because you do too much for everyone else. I love how you are so willing to help out.” She shook her head. “It’s a sexy quality of yours, but the time has come for you to get some relief.”

Again his mouth gaped. She may not have planned the first entendre, but that last one had just been too fun to skip. “Set up the ladder so we can get this done. Then maybe we can sneak a break for a private nailing.”

He snapped the ladder open and scowled. “Stop talking like that.”

She stepped close enough that her body almost brushed his. His warmth floated around her like a familiar web of safety she didn’t want to escape. “Because you like it?”

“Yes. Too much.”

“I can’t agree with that last part, and I am not so sure I can stop.” She pushed up on her toes, stretching farther than she had to when she wore her heels, and kissed the corner of his mouth. If anyone saw them, they would see it as a quick peck on the cheek—something they had done many times before.

Only she and Hauk knew she flicked her tongue over the corner of his lips.

Only she knew her belly quivered and goose pimples ran down her back. How had she not known they would be so combustive?

“I love being with you too much.” He sighed, kissed her back with the briefest shift of his lips.

Then, grumbling about stubborn women and meddling old men and questioning daughters, Hauk returned to his wood and nail gun that waited on the other side of the gazebo. Vic smiled as she climbed the ladder and began painting and plotting.

Hauk was falling for her even if he wasn’t ready to admit it. His bad mood was passing and he was losing the ability to resist her, and if she got really lucky, he would lose the desire to. As quietly as the insight into Hauk came to her, another realization dawned. She would win him over. He would be able to move past his losses for the sake of love.

All the things she had told Byron she didn’t want, the things she dreamed of, she wanted with Hauk. She only needed to find a way to show him there was nothing he could do to change his past. Just as there was nothing that would change the way she felt for him. The way she had felt for him for years.

Leaning on the top rung of the ladder, she pulled her phone from her pocket.

She had expected voicemail, but Josie answered on the second ring. She almost didn’t hear her friend over the screams and laughs of her class in the background. “Hey, Vic. Tell me you’re doing something great and fun while I am watching a group of kindergarteners destroy my room.”