Currant Creek Valley(69)

“I hope you and I are friends. I’m a generally friendly person.”

“We’re more than that or you wouldn’t shiver when I touch you.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?”

For purely illustrative purposes—not because of any overwhelming need to touch her burning inside him or anything—he slid a hand out and cupped her face. When she trembled, quite predictably, that familiar hunger exploded.

She almost immediately went still but he sensed it was taking a tremendous effort. “How do you even have room for a cell phone while you’re carrying around all that ego?”

A ragged laugh escaped and he did the only thing he could think of. He drew his thumb over her cheek and then leaned down to kiss her.

She remained frozen for all of perhaps three seconds and then her arms slid around his waist and she kissed him fiercely, passionately, as she always did, as if she couldn’t help herself.

Why did he do this, again and again? He couldn’t keep torturing himself. They seemed to follow the same pattern. He would kiss her, she would respond, then something would make her freak out and she would run away, leaving him aroused and frustrated.

He knew why he did it, why he couldn’t seem to stay away. He had known for a while now but hadn’t wanted to face it.

He was in love with her.

The truth of it settled over him like puffs from the cottonwoods along the creek, gentle and sweet and completely natural. He loved Alexandra McKnight, this strong, independent, beautiful woman who fought him at every turn.

What the hell was he going to do about that?

Right now, he was going to go on kissing her. He had no choice, not when she was wrapped around him, her tongue in his mouth and her hands drifting under the edge of his T-shirt to the skin beneath.

He was instantly hard, instantly ready. Unstoppable.

Except by her.

“This is more than physical. You know that, right?”

The instant the words escaped, he knew they were a fatal miscalculation. Why, oh, why couldn’t he keep his big mouth shut?

Every single one of her muscles went rigid and he could almost see her coming back to reality. An instant later, she wrenched away from him.

And here you have the freak-out section of the program, folks.

“No, it’s not. It’s only physical. We happen to have highly compatible pheromones, that’s all.”

She reached for the door again, always running away, but he held a hand out and stopped her, suddenly sad and angry and frustrated.

“Is it me, specifically, you’re running from, or anything with a Y chromosome?”

She lifted her chin. “Does it matter?”

“Damn right, it matters. You’ve obviously been hurt. I have no idea who did it to you but it wasn’t me! It’s not fair that you’ve decided to tar me with every other man’s sins.”

“No. It’s not.”

She didn’t explain herself or defend herself, which only pissed him off more. In fact, she looked wretched again, her green eyes huge amid suddenly pale features.

“What do you want from me? What can I do to show you I’m not all the other jackasses who have hurt you? Because I have to tell you, I’m tired of you taking off at a flat-out sprint anytime I get too close. To be perfectly honest with you, Alexandra, I’m at a place in my life when I have to wonder if the chase is worth it, especially since you obviously have no intention of letting me catch up.”

“Maybe you should stop trying then!” Some of the color returned to her features. “I’ve been nice about it. I’ve tried being bitchy. If you want me to paint it in big red letters on the street in front of your house, I can do that, too. I’m not sure what else I can do to convince you I’m not interested in a relationship.”

He gave her a long, steady look. “I guess that’s where I’m having problems believing you. Call me crazy, but I think you do want more. I think you’re terrified to let yourself care, for some reason I can’t comprehend.”

“Is it impossible to believe I’m perfectly happy being on my own? Plenty of people are.”

“Absolutely. I’m just not sure you’re one of them. Can you tell me straight that you’re not lonely?”

She snorted. “Yes, Sam. You’re crazy. Between the restaurant and my girlfriends, I’m surrounded by people nearly every moment of my life.”

“We both know that doesn’t mean anything.”

“I’m tired of people telling me I’m not happy!” she snapped. “Doesn’t anybody think I know my own mind?”

He was quiet and sad all over again. She wouldn’t open up to him. He had given her the perfect chance to tell him about the parts of her life she kept secret from him and she had shut him out. Again.