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“Relax. I know what I’m doing.”
The fire snapped. A spray of glowing sparks skittered across the cement near Marley’s chair. She jerked her feet away.
Justin sat up fast. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, nothing hit me.”
Her robe had fallen partially open, revealing a lengthy expanse of one bare leg. Justin tore his gaze away to look at her face. “You really shouldn’t be out here in bare feet.”
She shrugged.
“What is it with you and shoes anyway?” he asked.
Her gaze swung to his. “What do you mean?”
“You used to run into work at the job site without them—not exactly smart and completely against code, I might add—and you kicked them off every chance you got at the office.” He lifted his brows and waited.
“So I don’t like to wear shoes. Big deal.”
“No big deal.” He glanced down at her feet. “In fact, they’re quite nice.” His gaze slid back up along the length of her body as he added in a low tone, “Like the rest of you.”
She blushed again, and he waited with anticipation for her response to that.
“What’s the deal you and guilt?”
He stiffened at her abrupt, obvious change of subject. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake off the flood of images that hit him at the mere mention of the word and fought to keep his expression impassive. Her face softened in the firelight. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Obviously he hadn’t been successful. He forced a smile and grabbed the first subject he could think of. “I would, however, I’m having a hard time thinking of anything but what you might not be wearing under that robe.” It was half true, anyway.
Her jaw tightened even though he’d swear he saw a flicker of awareness in her eyes. “Get serious.”
“You don’t think I’m serious?”
She set her mug aside and stood between the chairs. The gun disappeared back in the pocket of her robe. Her slow, seductive smile threw him off balance. When she reached for the sash and began to pull the knot loose, Justin swallowed hard. He’d been trying to divert her attention good and far from the previous subject, but he hadn’t expected this.
“Come on now, what are you doing?” He gave a half smile of his own and rose to his feet.
“You wanted to know.”
“Well, yeah, but not right here.” He glanced around, only to look back and discover she’d opened the robe already. “Mar—”
He caught sight of a plain white tank top and grey cotton boy shorts. Not quite what he’d imagined, but considering she wasn’t wearing a bra and the material clung to her curves, he was far from disappointed.
Hands on her hips, she regarded him with raised eyebrows. “You didn’t really think I’d come outside without anything on under here, did you?”
He grinned. “A guy can hope, can’t he?” He reached forward, slid his palm around her hip to the small of her back, and drew her against him. The tremor that ran through her body triggered an answering surge of desire in his. “Let’s go inside.”
“You’re good, I’ll give you that.”
He didn’t like the serious look in her eyes. “I’ve barely even started,” he drawled, closing the distance between their lips.
She drew back slightly. “Sometimes it helps to talk about it.”
He kept his body from stiffening in protest by focusing on the feel of her hips against his. “Talking is over-rated.”
“Most of the time, I’d agree with you. But some things need to be—”
With a gentle jerk, he pulled her tight against him to cover her mouth with his. Her lips parted in surprise, giving him instant access to the soft, hot recess beyond. He got another taste of honey as she slid her tongue against his, only this time he savored it and went back for more.
