I don’t. I can’t.
And when his lips finally capture mine, it’s like everything I’ve been holding back comes rushing to the surface.
His kiss is demanding, consuming, and I match his intensity with my own, my fingers tangling in his shirt as I pull him closer.
When we finally break apart, both of us breathing hard, he rests his forehead against mine.
“You’re trouble, Juniper Hayes,” he says, his voice tinged with something gruff but tender.
Chapter Eight
Flint
“You keep chewing on that lip, and it’s going to swell,” I mutter, my voice low as I run the pad of my thumb along her lower lip.
A faint blush creeps up her neck. “Why do you care?”
“Just seems like a waste of perfectly good lips.” I smile, loving the way she banters so boldly with me.
Her eyes widen slightly before narrowing into a glare. “Always the charmer, huh?”
“Only when it works.” I smirk, watching the way her cheeks darken. She hates that I get under her skin. Almost as much as I enjoy doing it.
“You’re insufferable,” she says, but there’s no real bite behind it.
“And you’re stubborn,” I shoot back.
She exhales a shaky laugh, shaking her head. “Guess we’re even.”
The air between us thickens. The wildfire’s distant glow flickers in her eyes, but it’s the way she looks at me—like she’s trying not to see me—that sets something loose in my chest.
“Why do you do that?” I ask, my voice softer now.
“Do what?”
“Put up walls,” I say, leaning forward. “You fight every instinct to let someone in, like it’s some kind of sport.”
She stiffens, her gaze darting back to the window. “Look who’s talking, Mr. Grizzly Adams.”
“Fair enough,” I laugh, shifting her a little closer into my chest. “But I’m not the one pretending I don’t feel this.”
Her head snaps back toward me, her expression a mix of shock and indignation. “Feel what?”
“This.” I gesture between us. “The way we spark every damn time we’re in the same room.”
She blinks, her lips parting as if to argue, but no words come out. Good. She knows I’m right.
“I—” She starts, then stops, exhaling sharply. “Maybe it’s complicated.”
“It’s not,” I counter. She’s like a magnet, pulling me in even when I know I should keep my distance. “You just make it that way, city girl.”
She glares up at me, her chin tilting defiantly. “Maybe I don’t want this like you think.”
“Liar.”
The word hangs in the air between us, daring her to deny it. Her breathing quickens, and I catch the faintest quiver in her lips.
I adjust myself to cage her underneath me, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her skin is soft under my fingers, and she doesn’t pull away.
