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"Well, you don't have to throw someone's nasty old knee-high at me. I'll try to remember you're sensitive about spreading yourself around."
"Spreading myself around?" Jake parroted, withdrawing the other wadded-up hosiery from the toe of the matching shoe. "Do you want to rephrase that?"
Eva took a few steps back. "Don't you dare."
Jake flashed an evil grin. "Oh, I dare."
Eva scrambled backward, nearly tripping over a stroller. "Don't you do it. Jake!"
Jake lunged for her, and Eva sidestepped, scrambling behind another table displaying candle holders and ashtrays. He dangled the stocking that was stained black at the toes. "I think this would look nice on you, Eva."
"You two cut it out," Abigail yelled. "We've got lots to do."
"You heard your sister," Eva warned, shifting left and right as Jake swung the offending thing her way.
"Since when do I listen to her?" he said, lurching around.
Squealing, Eva ran toward the emergency exit door. "Stop, Jake!"
He ran behind her, laughing like a lunatic.
Eva slammed out the door and tried to push it closed on him. The metal door was hot from the sun beating down on it, scorching Eva's hands. She jerked back and Jake barreled out, catching her around the waist, pushing the hosiery toward her face.
Eva wiggled against him, pulling at his arm locked around her. "Don't you dare, Jake Beauchamp."
He laughed against her, his breath warm near her cheek. She sank down, trying to wriggle away, which caused Jake's arm to move up and his hand to cradle her left breast.
They both froze.
A second ticked by. Then another.
He let go, and Eva stumbled away, feeling the heat scorch her cheeks while at the same time acknowledging how good his touch had felt.
If only...
She spun around, her eyes meeting his. He'd lowered the stupid stocking, laughter dying, an odd look on his face. Her gaze met his, and she saw in those fiery blue eyes something she'd never seen before.
Swallowing, she shrugged. Because she couldn't think of anything better to do in an awkward moment such as this.
Painfully awkward.
So Jake had grabbed her boob. It was an accident, a by-product of him acting like a silly little boy. No big deal.
Jake gave a small chuckle. "Oops."
"Yeah," she said, dropping her gaze. "My fault."
"No, it wasn't. I was the one who grabbed you." Eva wanted to forget it. Pretend it hadn't happened, so she looked at the forgotten knee-high in his hand. "If I slide by you, do you promise not to put that on me?"
He looked down at the stocking and then back up with a twinkle in his eye. "Why don't you try and see?"
Eva gave him a flat look. "Please. Like I trust you."
He merely smiled, his gaze hanging up on her lips. She resisted the urge to lick them. And then this weird thing happened.
She'd been in some dangerous situations, heated situations that caused frissons of alarm to raise the hair on her neck.
