She thought about ducking, but that was dumb. He’d already seen her. She raised a hand, her heart hammering against her ribs. After a beat of hesitation, he lifted his hand in return, a slow, uncertain gesture. She couldn’t read his expression from this distance, but his posture had changed—the casual confidence of a moment ago replaced by a tension that radiated across the street.
She should turn around. Make breakfast. Get on with her day.
Instead, she let her gaze travel down the hard planes of his chest, the dark trail of hair that disappeared into his jeans, the way his shoulders tapered to his waist. Her skin flushed hot despite the cool air in her kitchen.
Bear stood motionless for another moment, then turned abruptly and disappeared into his house. The door closed behind him with a solid thud that she felt more than heard.
She stayed at the window, her breath fogging the glass, until the ache between her legs became impossible to ignore. Atlas whined softly at her feet.
“Sorry, buddy,” she said, reaching down to scratch his ears. “I’m being ridiculous.”
But she wasn’t. This wasn’t just physical attraction—though there was plenty of that. This was Bear. The man who’d held her while she cried. The man who’d looked at her both like she was something precious and like she was a burr under his saddle. The man who’d kissed her like she’d never been kissed before.
She moved away from the window and picked up her phone again, scrolling through her contacts until she found Bear’s number. Her thumb hovered over the call button.
What would she say?
I can’t stop thinking about you.
I want to finish what we started in the Jeep?
No. She put the phone down and went to the door. This was a conversation better had face-to-face.
She went up his steps and knocked.
He opened the door immediately, like he’d been expecting her. He’d pulled on a T-shirt, covering up all that beautiful muscle.
Too bad.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” She shoved her hands in her pockets to keep from trailing her palms down his chest. “Have you been avoiding me all week because of the kiss in the Jeep, or because of what I said about Luke?”
He exhaled through his nose. “Greta?—”
“It’s a straightforward question, Teddy Bear.”
“It’s not a conversation I want to have on the porch.”
“Then invite me in so we can have it inside.” She waited. He didn’t move. “Okay, so we’re having it on the porch.”
“I’ve been busy,” he said, and even he didn’t seem convinced by it.
She tilted her head. “Doing what?”
“Things.” He crossed his arms. “Life. Logan. Work. You want a list?”
“You know what? I do want a list.” She stepped closer, into his space. “Because I’ve been across the street all week, watching your truck come and go, watching you avoid looking at my house like it’s got the plague. All after you kissed me like you meant it. So yeah, I want a fucking list.”
Bear’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say a damn thing.
She pulled one hand out of her pocket and poked him in the chest. “Oh, you big, grumpy, silent mountain of a man. You don’t get to just shut down when things get hard. You don’t get to?—”
“Don’t,” he growled.
“Don’t what? Don’t call you out? Don’t ask you to be honest with me for five minutes?”
He unfolded.
