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Chapter 17
Kane kissed her. She kissed back. He felt…
Sam dragged his hands over his face. His eyes burned. His jaw hurt from clenching his teeth. He’d been working nonstop since he’d closed the bookstore at two and gone for a workout and shower, which had been…
He squinted at the clock on his computer. Nine and a half hours ago.
He’d spent most of those hours dicking around with the main plot ofTripwire, which was already solid, and ignoring the holes where he was supposed to stick the romance. Finally, he’d forced himself to tackle the problem.
Kane felt…
He fuckingfelt…
Sam cracked his knuckles and typed,He felt hot. Like he was burning up.
Christ. Sounded like the guy had a fever.
He could almost hear Brooke.“Love is like a fever, but a good kind. It spreads through your body and heightens everything—your temperature, your heartbeat, your excitement, your senses. It means you should pay attention because something out of the ordinary is taking place.”
With a groan, he shoved away from his desk and stalked to the kitchen. The place he’d been renting for the past year was a two-story house on an isolated plot of land near the Bliss Cove Library. Aside from his two desks, computer, and a few pieces of dirt-brown furniture, the place was empty.
The surroundings had never bothered him before now. He just needed a place to work and sleep. But now, as he stood in the linoleum-floored kitchen with its florescent lights and fake-wood cabinets, he had a visceral urge to be back at the Eagle’s Nest.
Not just the cabin, but…the cabin with Brooke.
He couldn’t stop thinking about all her ridiculous bedding in the cozy little blanket fort, or the dining table that was so small their knees bumped every time they sat down. He even missed the narrow sofa and the easy chair positioned at such an angle that the firelight flickered through Brooke’s hair whenever she curled up with one of her romance novels.
He was losing his mind. Worse, he was losing his focus—if he’d ever had any to begin with. He couldn’t let one aberrant weekend screw up his progress.
What progress?
Fisting his hand in his hair, he gave himself a good tug and returned to the computer.
He felt…
“Tell me what you’re feeling.”The memory of Brooke’s voice drifted into his ears. He remembered her fingertips on his chest as she prodded at the area where his heart was supposed to be.“Right here.”
“Like I want to kiss you again.”
A slow smile curved her pretty mouth.“That’s what you want, not how you feel.”
“I feel like I want to kiss you again.”He’d been aching for it.
Even now, his body reacted to the memory of her soft lips parting under his, and her warm body yielding to his touch.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
Hot. Horny. Incredulous. Carnal. Eager. Impatient. Jacked up.
Though accurate, none of those words conveyed what he’d felt when he’d slipped his hand between Brooke’s bare thighs, or when she’d driven her fingers into his hair and breathed his name against his mouth.
He stared at the computer screen. The lines of his manuscript were as fuzzy and knotted as his brain. Two and a half weeks left. His attempt to isolate himself at the cabin had been thwarted in ways he could never have imagined. He sure as hell hadn’t gotten anything done there.
Except…
Letting out his breath, he rolled his chair back and went to put on his running shoes. A run usually helped clear his mind.
He grabbed his keys and headed down to the darkened beach. The cold, salty wind whipped against his face, and moonlight shone through a thin marine layer. He jogged over the pathway bordering the shoreline, forcing away all thoughts of Kane and Patricia.
