I leaned back on my heels, and she dropped her hands back into her lap.
“If you let people see this side of you, I bet they would quickly change their opinion.” Her hands drifted to the ends of the hair I’d finished cutting.
“I’ve never been accused of helping people feel safe.”
“Yeah, this town isn’t really known for being observant. At least not in my case.” There was that laugh again she made when she was trying to downplay her own hurt. “Everyone’s got you all wrong, haven’t they? You’re just a big old teddy bear.” Her mouth quirked in a smile that made me want to kiss her.
I made a sound of acknowledgment but couldn’t look directly at her anymore. My heart and soul were longing for things they couldn’t have. I pictured a life where I went to work at a job that made me feel fulfilled and came home to a spunky brunette who kept me on my toes …
I collected the towel and went to shake it in the trash. Bee didn’t know the truth about my violent past. If she did, she would understand why none of her ideas were possible.
Chapter 16
Bee
My feelingsfor Owen were full-blown. He was so smart and handsome and kind and safe and protective, and so many feelings rushed through me as he knelt in front of me that I couldn’t find the words. I felt restless and anxious. We were here safe and it felt like a clock started ticking. I wanted to kiss him again now that the extremely real threat of death was gone. I didn’t want this precious time together to end.
I looked in the small round mirror above the table to study his work.
“Whoa. Owen …” I turned side to side, examining. “I look quite pret-tay,” I said in my best Keira Knightly impression, wondering if he understood theLove, Actuallyreference.
Owen cleared his throat. He did that a lot in lieu of speaking whatever first popped into his head. What that must be like—thinking before speaking.
“It suits you,” he said.
“I know. I look so chic.” I turned to him. “You are a man of many hidden talents, Mr. Campbell.”
He made another uncomfortable sound.
I looked back at myself one more time and didn’t even recognize the woman looking back. In a good way. A rush of confidence surged through me. The chin-length bob matured me in a way I didn’t even realize I was so desperate for. The natural free-spiritedness that represented me was still there in the rough cut and the disheveled waves. More than that, I felt powerful and sexy. That feeling of optimism that could only come with a major life change straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin. Like Mary Poppins, my reflection gave me a saucy wink.
NYNB was back on track.
I spun in a circle, examining the Hookup Hut, with its big lumpy bed and cozy cottagesoftcore vibes, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of … something. Almost like a sentimentality for this moment, even though I was still in it. It made the tightening in my chest worsen.
Time was running out.
Owen’s large arms and gentle hands stole my focus. His massive frame moved with a grace born of confidence that was irresistible. The way he continued to protect me, and his surprisingly deep well of sensitivity and thoughtfulness infiltrated my brain. My palms longed to run over his muscles and learn his body. I wanted to feel his weight until I almost couldn’t breathe. I wanted Owen to be so close to me, in me, that my existence relied on his physical touch.
I wanted to lick that man like the Pop-Tarts filling.
The fire blazed in the stove now, and with the vents wide open, the small space was already warm. Owen built me a fire like nobody’s business. Another stamp in his Irresistible Man Passport. His kiss had been wonderful, but he held himself back. I never understood that. What was he holding back for? What was he waiting for? There would never be another night like this. Another opportunity so perfect for us to come together. Maybe he just needed a little push. Owen was a catch, but how did onego about seducing a catch like him? Maybe another treat to set the mood? But not everybody was complex carb motivated.
“So … what to do, what to do?” I strolled back and forth in front of the bed, gently brushing my fingertips along the quilt, sashaying my hips with emphasis as I bit my lip and fluttered my eyelashes at him. The loud fabric of my snowsuit ruined the effect, but I pretended not to notice. Maybe there were condoms hidden up in this joint I could discreetly toss at him.
Owen stood back from me, hands loosely clasped, color high on his cheeks. He looked like he was running security for a concert. Maybe this was his natural state of being. His thighs tested the seams of his jeans, and his biceps, traps, and all those fancy arm muscles were on full display now under a dark flannel. His eye tracked my every movement, but his features remained hard and unreadable.
“Phew, that fire sure warmed it up in here quickly.” I brought my hands to the zipper. “I should take off some layers,” I said in a deep, sultry voice.
It must be that my feminine wiles were too much for him. At this rate, he might be seconds from dropping to his knees and crawling toward me.
“What’s wrong with you?” he said with a head tilt of confusion.
Or not.
“Ugh.” I flung my hands out to the side.
Stupid men. Stupid snowsuits. Stupid forced proximity that should guarantee a hookup, but alas …
