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I’m the problem here—me and my ridiculous romantic attachment that has robbed me of my senses.
Ethan was nice and cute, and I couldn’t even enjoy his flirtation because my eyes kept wandering back to Sutton’s, where his dark eyes were assessing me every time.
I drive back to Sutton’s and besides the light by the front door, the lights in the house are off. My shoulders are so tense that I feel tight all over. I’m ready to be done with this day. I shut the door to my car quietly and walk toward the stairs.
“Felicity.”
The low timbre in his voice sends chill bumps skittering down my spine. I pause and turn toward the house, not seeing where he is.
“Sutton,” I say quietly.
“You’re home late.”
“Didn’t know my hours off were under such close scrutiny.”
“They are when you’re under my care.”
A snort escapes me before I can stop it. “Under yourcare?”
I walk toward the house, stopping when I see his shadow on the side porch. I click the flashlight on my keychain and can make him out a little better. He sets something down. It sounds like ice rattling against a glass.
“As long as you’re living with me, you’re under my care,” he says.
“You’re taking the employer/employee role a little too far. I’m under no one’s care but my own, thank you very much.”
He stands up and I’ve moved closer to him than I realized.
He takes another step toward me and I gasp when our chests touch. This close, I see him just enough to tell that his hair is disheveled, like he’s run his hands through it a million times,and warmth is emanating from his body even though it’s cold out here. He reaches out and gently touches my face, pushing my hair off my shoulder, and then he grabs it in his fist and tilts my face up. His nose brushes against mine.
He smells like whiskey and leather and something sweet and I just breathe him in, scared to move in case it breaks this spell.
“Did you let him kiss you?” he says, his forehead lowering to mine.
“Who?” I whisper.
I pull back slightly and he loosens his grip on my hair, his hand dropping to his side.
“You’re asking me if I let a guy kiss me when your lips were all over Gwyneth’s earlier?” I shake my head. “Nope, you don’t get to do that.”
I turn to walk away and his hands around my waist stop me. His mouth is against my ear now, his body pressed against my back.
“I stopped the kiss. She caught me by surprise,” he says.
I lean my head back on his shoulder, intoxicated by the nearness of him.
“God knows Ishouldbe kissing her…or anyone else…to get the thought of kissingyouout of my system.” His voice is hoarse and gravelly, and I can’t get enough of it.
I turn around.
“You think of kissing me?” I whisper.
“All the time.” He touches my face and his lips hover near mine, the anticipation making my entire body feel weighted, like his arms are the only thing holding me up.
The sound of a distant coyote howling and then another joining in breaks the spell. Sutton takes a step back, his arms dropping off of me, leaving me cold.
But his words send me reeling.
“This is…so wrong,” he says. “Felicity, I?—”
