She shakes her head, suddenly shy, so I continue, “If I kiss you again, I’m not stopping.”
Her breath catches. Her gaze drops to my mouth. “Jack…”
“I’m not going to pretend I don’t want you. Not anymore.”
She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t push me away. Her chest rises fast, her lips parting?—
And then she turns her face.
My hand hits the wall.
Hard.
She ducks under my arm and walks away fast, barefoot on concrete, shoulders tight.
I stand there, fists clenched, jaw tight, watching the spot she left empty.
She wants me.
But something’s still holding her back.
And I plan to find out what the hell it is.
Chapter Nine
Holly
They show up on a Sunday.
No warning. No call. Just a sleek black SUV crunching gravel in the drive and two too-perfect silhouettes stepping out like they own the damn mountain.
My stomach drops before I even open the door.
Jack’s out back, sawing cedar for a client job, and I’m praying he stays there.
“Mom? Dad?” I step out onto the porch, already bracing.
My mother’s mouth pinches like she’s sucked on a lemon. “Really, Holly?Thisis where you’ve landed? Thank God you still had your location turned on on your phone or we’d never have found you.”
My father just scowls at the cabin like it’s a personal insult. “We thought this was temporary.”
“It was,” I lie.
They glance past me. Toward the woodshed. The stacked lumber. The sound of Jack’s saw slicing through silence.
“Is he here?” my mom asks, voice sharp.
“Don’t,” I warn, stepping in front of them. “This isn’t your business.”
“It became our business the second you dragged Josie out to the middle of nowhere to shack up with some—somewoodsman.”
“Woodsman?” I snort. “Jesus, Mother. He’s not Bigfoot. He builds furniture. He runs a business. He’s Josie’s?—”
The door creaks behind me.
Jack.
His voice is quiet, lethal. “I’m Josie’s what?”
