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Perhaps it was time to find out.
Yep, he was full of good plans today, especially since his brain seemed to be in his jeans at the moment.
“Me being here and running the business is something you should get used to,” she said and put a hand on her hip while the other was still busy clutching the knot of the towel around her chest.
So they were back to this. He was getting nervous, because she kept referring to the shop and the warehouse as “the business” as a whole. And that made his eye tic come back. Demanding money for her flower shop ideas was one thing. “The business” was another. Because that business—a.k.a. the warehouse—was his business.
If Miss Baughman wanted to play tough with all her talk and rules, so be it.
“Fine. Enjoy your cold shower.” Keeping his eyes on her, he waited for her move. Laura Baughman was a walking, talking game of Texas Hold’em. He’d give her credit, she had a good poker face, but if he called her bluff enough, eventually she’d fold.
She stood still, dripping on his hardwood floor, and what he wouldn’t do to lick those beads of water sliding down her neck and thighs. Damn, he wanted to make her drenched and dripping in a different kind of way.
She looked at her feet for a long moment, as if debating her options.
“I just need a hot shower,” she finally mumbled.
“Okay.” This was good! She was coming close to that common ground. Now if only he could stop thinking about making her come . . . He stood and walked toward her, not stopping until he was close enough to feel her breath. “I can help you with that,” he rasped, leaning in enough to make sure she felt his body heat.
She eyed him, obviously annoyed, but there was a flash of desire in those molasses eyes, and that got his blood pumping a little faster. She might be freezing her ass off, but she felt the pull between them, too—that much was obvious.
“You’re not going to be satisfied until I beg, are you?” she asked.
“Oh, I’d love it if you begged. But in a very different way than you’re thinking.” With his grip fastened around the long neck of his beer, he slowly ran his knuckles up her thigh, making even more goose bumps break out. “But for a shower? I’d be happy with a simple please.”
She pressed her lips together, as if her pride willed her to remain stubborn. Time to push. Because if he didn’t, he’d keep coming after her. He knew it. Laura Baughman was his kryptonite, and had been since high school. She needed to push him away and stay away, or he’d keep coming for her. Despite the consequences.
“Look at yourself,” he cooed, inching just a little closer until the tips of her breasts brushed his torso. She sucked in a breath, and so did he. Because he could feel those pebbled peaks stabbing through the thin towel and the cotton of his shirt, raking against him. “Look how cold you are. You must be aching . . .” Closer still, until his mouth was right over hers. “Desperate for something . . . hot.”
“I am,” she breathed. When she looked at his lips, then licked her own, he was ready to pounce. Sweep her up and toss her on the couch, rip that stupid towel away and bury himself inside her until, yes, she begged. Begged him to never stop.
But he went slowly. This was a battle of wills, after all.
“Then just say the word and I can make life easier for you,” he said.
She looked down, and he was pretty sure she could see firsthand the effect she had on him. She blinked a few times, a fog lifting from her brown eyes. Shock plagued her face. She glanced at his cock, which was obviously and painfully tenting his jeans, and Lord have mercy, she bit her bottom lip.
“Looks like I’m the one making things hard on you,” she whispered. “And I don’t need you to make anything easy on me, Jacob Lock. Because I can guarantee you there’s nothing easy about me.”
With that, she spun and walked out his door, that world-class ass swaying and bare feet slapping against the hardwood as she made her way out the front door, leaving him with his own hardwood problem and in need of a cold shower himself.
“Believe me, I’m well aware of that fact,” he called after her.
Her response was the slamming of his front door.
Chapter Three
Laura had never needed a drink so badly in her life. That cold shower of hose water did nothing to calm her nerves after her encounter with Jacob. She was desperate for vodka and her best friend. Which were both on the other side of the bar door.
She parked around back and stared at the ocean for a moment. The town had been built along the sturdy cliffs lining the Pacific, and with the vast blue water as an endless backdrop, it was easy to feel small in a big world that was currently wrapped up in a tiny town.
Speaking of blue, Jake’s eyes are incredible . . .
Shut up, brain!
Frickin’ Jake.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and thanked whatever God was looking out for her that she’d mustered the courage to walk away from him earlier. Because a very big part of her had wanted to stay. The way he looked at her was hotter than any water she’d hoped for.
