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“I don’t rent the cottage.” He put his hand over hers to pull her grip away. His fingers engulfed hers, shocking her with sudden awareness.
He stilled. She clutched his shirt. Energy suddenly charged through the air. Her knuckles pressed against the incredibly solid wall of his chest. His body heat burned through the cotton. He tightened his grip on her hand.
Never before had she noticed how big his hands were. His inner wrist pressed right against hers. She swore she could feel their pulses beating together. His blood thumped swift and heavy beneath his skin.
What the…?
Forcing her fingers to unclench, she yanked her hand away and sat back down. Her heart was beating oddly fast. She took a healthy swallow of scotch, which did nothing to quench an unexpected surge of desire.
Grant flicked his gaze over her, as if he knew exactly what that brief contact had done to her. Acute self-consciousness flooded her, burning her cheeks.
Ugh.She hated reacting like a girl.
Rory shoved off the stool and dug her wallet out of her jeans pocket. She tossed a twenty on the counter. “I gotta go.”
She grabbed her jacket and fled.
