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Chapter 5
Grant threw his travel bag in the car and slammed the trunk. Despite a three-mile jog and some heavy lifting at the gym, he was knotted with tension. After his encounter with Rory in the kitchen last night—well, early this morning—he hadn’t been able to sleep at all.
Which might have been for the better since no doubt he’d have dreamed about her. Not chaste dreams either. He felt the hot, erotic images seething just beneath his consciousness, waiting to break through when his guard was down.
His mind would flood with images of Rory in her grayByte Meshirt that didn’t conceal the curves of her breasts. He’d had a terrible time trying not to stare at her long, bare legs and an even worse time trying not to wonder if she was wearing underwear.
She wouldn’t be wearing anything in his dreams, though. In fact, she’d pull her shirt over her head and stand naked in front of him, all pale curves, hard pink nipples, and smooth skin.
When he’d kissed her last night, he’d expected her to taste sharp and fiery, like pepper. Instead, kissing her had been like diving headfirst into a sweet, tart meringue that melted on his tongue and incited a greedy craving for more. And more. Andmore.
He let out his breath in a rush. Stupid of him to have kissed her. It’d make things weird between them, and he couldn’t affordweirdnessthis weekend. Maybe he should apologize or—
“You have to get into the car to drive it.” Rory’s voice sliced through his thoughts.
He looked up to find her striding toward him from the cottage, a travel bag in one hand, a plastic cup and straw in the other, and a paper fast-food bag under her arm.
Despite the evidence of culinary garbage, his insides clenched at the sight of her in torn jeans, a brown leather jacket, and a green shirt that somehow made her eyes bluer than ever. Her hair hung in damp curls around her shoulders, and her face had a freshly scrubbed, pink sheen.
“You’re late.” Tightening his jaw, he pulled open the passenger door for her and unlocked the trunk again.
“It’s noon.” She handed him her travel bag.
“It’s ten past noon.” He tossed her luggage in the trunk and eyed the fast-food bag. “What’s that?”
“Beef burrito and chicken enchilada. Cherry coke to wash it down.”
“You’re not eating that in the car.”
She frowned. “So you’ll have to wait until I finish it, and then we won’t leave untiltwentypast noon.”
Grant cursed inwardly. “Don’t spill anything.”
“I’m a very neat eater.”
Right. She’d gobbled up his omelet like a starving woman, getting cheese in her hair, butter on her cheek, and milk on her upper lip. He’d gotten incredibly turned on just watching her.
“Let’s go.” He strode to the driver’s side. “I want to avoid traffic.”
“You need me to program my GPS?” Rory leaned into the car to put the drink in the cup-holder and the bag on the floor.
“I do not.”
“Did you eat lunch? Sorry, I should’ve asked if you wanted me to get you something.”
“No. Get in the car.”
“Hey.” She grabbed the open door and pulled herself up onto the running board, shooting him a glare from across the car roof. “Is this how it’s going to be? You’re all irritable and annoyed because you started something last night that we can’t finish? Don’t give me that shit, Grant. A hot kiss doesn’t negate the fact that I still hate your singing fish and think you’re a disgrace to society for not owning a cell phone. But I’m putting all that aside this weekend to pretend I love everything about you. So I’d be most appreciative if you’d start acting as if you like me in return.”
Twin blue flames flared in her eyes. Sunlight sparked off the car roof.
“Get in.” He pulled his keys from the pocket of his jeans.
With a huff, she swung herself into the car and slammed the door. He got into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
Rory shoved the seatbelt lock into place and folded her arms over her chest. Grant guided the car onto Starfish Avenue.
“I don’t need to act as if I like you,” he said.
