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“You already painted that,” she accused.
I absolutely had, but if she were more amenable to spending time with me, I wouldn’t have to resort to petty tactics. The drive back to the Jacobs Ranch wasn’t long enough.
“There was a time you could stand to be around me for more than two seconds without hightailing it away,” I said without looking up.
“I don’t remember that,” she snapped.
“Want a specific example?” I offered. “I’ve got a good one.”
“No.”
“Then you can tell me what’s got you all riled up.”
“I’m fine—”
“I’d be less concerned stuck in a room with an angry bull than with you right now.” A rock skittered behind me, but I didn’t look up, pretending to concentrate on the steps. “You’ve got that look you get when you’re about to detonate.”
“You aren’t even looking at me. And what look? I don’t get a look.”
“Don’t have to see you,” I said, knowing damn well her cheeks were turning a darker shade of red by the second and it had nothing to do with the cold. “And you definitely get a look.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
Another rock sailed and landed not too far from me . . . on purpose. “Your mouth starts to do this twitchy thing. And when it’s real bad, your left eye does too.”
“Twitchy? Where the hell did you learn a word like that?” she demanded.
I casually turned around and pointed. “See? Twitchy?” That mouth couldn’t settle, one second flat, the next like a wave as it rolled back and forth. “Uh-oh. We’ve got some eye action.”
Her fingers flexed at her sides, and though I was well aware decking me wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, I couldn’t stop. “Is that my hat you’ve got on? Again?”
If looks could kill, I’d be laid out on the ground in my grandma’s yard, riddled with holes.
“I’m sorry, Heartbreaker, but that’s my favorite. I can’t part with it. Not even for you.”
She yanked off the ball cap and threw it at me. I caught it before it hit the ground and slowly rose. Her hair was all kinds of messed up, and even if it weren’t for the reasons I’d like, I still loved the sight.
I ate up the yard between us in three strides and stopped short of touching her. She tilted her head back in defiance, those angry eyes meeting mine. I placed the hat back on her head, pulling her ponytail through the back opening.
She slapped at my hands, but didn’t take off the hat.
I tapped my lips with my index finger. “Come to think of it, I would be willing to give you my favorite hat for something.”
“I don’t want it.”
So help me God, it took all my strength not to toss her in the bed of my truck where we could both take out our aggression in a productive way.
“That’s not true. If you didn’t, you’d have never agreed in the first place.”
“It was a mistake.”
The word was like a missile when it blew up. For as much as I loved her games, I’d had enough of this one. That she could so casually toss out the wordmistakeregarding something so important hurt. She was treating this like it was just any old business deal.
“Like hell it was. Stop this nonsense.”
“Just sign the damn papers. I can’t figure out for the life of me why you wouldn’t want to.”
I leaned in until my nose almost touched hers. “Get this through your head. I’m. Not. Signing.”
