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“You’d make a great news anchor.”
She coughs and laughs at the same time. It makes me smile.
“Sorry, what?”
“Well, you’re smart. The sound of your voice is like… honey. So smooth and warm. And you’re beautiful. Millions of people would turn on the TV every morning just to listen to you and see you. I would.” What the fuck am I saying? I’m not even trying to hide the fact that I’m into her. It’s pointless. My brain has no filter around her.
She turns to face me with a smirk. “Real funny.”
“I’m serious,” I say as I take another swig of beer.
“That’s so random and specific,” she laughs again, harder this time. After a minute, she looks back at me. “You think I’m beautiful?”
Now I’m nervous that I’ll say something cheesy and cliché like“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen”and she’ll roll her eyes. No matter how true that statement is.
“I don’t think. I know you are.” I lean down closer to her. I can’t help myself. “And I’ve seen all of you.”
The blush that spreads across her cheeks matches the hot pink of her fingernail polish. I take her hand to inspect closer like I know shit about a girl’s choice of nail polish color.
“Cute.”
She smiles. “I painted them earlier. I usually don’t have extra time to do my nails.”
I nod my head. Looking back up at her, still holding her hand, I want so badly to lean in an inch closer. Instead, it’s her that takes the step to close the distance between us.
“I can’t figure you out,” she says softly with her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t waste your time trying to figure me out.”
“Ha!” She jumps and points her finger at me. “That’s it!”
“What?” I laugh.
“Your type.”
“My type? And what type is that?” I ask her.
“Prickly Pear. Pretty to look at.” She fiddles with the top button of my shirt. “But I bet you’re tender and sweet on the inside.” I quirk a brow and she pops open the button.
What is it with this girl and undoing articles of my clothing out in the open? And how do I get her to keep doing it?
“Lots of sharp needles on the outside to keep everyone from getting in,” she goes on, her finger trailing down my chest. I can’t keep my fucking heart rate down. “You feel like you need to hide and protect parts of yourself. Even with the people closest to you.”
Nailed it.
“And what type are you?” I ask her, failing to mask my shaky voice. Her hands are on my bare skin and I can’t speak right.
“Lucky for you. We’re the same,” she whispers as the second button of my shirt pops open between her fingers.
Chapter 14
Blythe
Where this bravery came from, I will never know. But touching and teasing him like this feels too good to stop.
When I couldn’t get the image of him in the shower out of my head this afternoon, I knew I wanted to see him with his clothes off again. Preferably with more touching involved this time. Unfortunately, my brain doesn’t care that this isn’t the most ideal time or place to be unbuttoning his shirt. There’s a party happening just behind us inside the bunkhouse.
But I have a career to get back to in a few weeks that will take over every waking moment of my time and every ounce of my energy. If this is my chance to have some fun, I’m going to take it.
