by Maisey Yates
She braced herself and held his gaze. “So what exactly was the problem?”
He didn’t answer immediately, a silver glint in his eye. Then, strangely, one corner of his beautiful mouth turned up into a ghost of a smile. “You are the problem, Charity Golding.”
A small burst of shock went through her.
“Me?” she asked blankly. “What do you mean me?”
“You really don’t know?” He raised one straight black brow. “No idea at all?”
“No, why would I?”
He let out a breath and then glanced around the room as if he was searching for an answer in the shelves around them. “I guess not then,” he muttered.
This was getting weird. Why would she be a problem? And in what way? It was apparent she was missing something vital.
“What do you mean ‘I guess not’?” She stared at him. “You guess not what?”
His gaze came back to hers, oddly intense. “Why are you here, Charity? What are you doing back here in Jasper Creek, I mean?”
The question wasn’t one she’d expected him to ask, because a) she didn’t think he’d be interested in why she was here, and b) the Jasper Creek jungle telegraph was usually pretty efficient and surely he would know by now.
Obviously a) he was, and b) he didn’t.
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard,” she said. “Me, Hope, Pru, and Kit are here to—”
“Yeah, I know about the four of you and the store thing. But why are you here. You specifically.”
Oh. Right. That.
There was no reason not to tell him—at least the same superficial reason she’d given her friends. “I wanted to take a break from medicine. Spend a few months doing something different, something a bit quieter and more peaceful than being in the ER anyway.” She nodded at the shelves. “I’ve always loved the yarn store so I thought it would be the perfect place to start.”
He nodded slowly. “So, you’re planning on going back?”
“To Seattle? Eventually. But not soon.” She stopped, not wanting to think about going back right now. “Why?”
“Why do you think?” The look he gave her was suddenly very intense. “Because you’re too damn sexy for my peace of mind and I can’t start anything with you, no matter how much I want to.”
* * *
“START SOMETHING WITH ME?” Charity repeated, her blue eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”
Garrett knew that broaching this particular topic wasn’t likely to be a great idea, but he didn’t see much point in lying, most especially not to himself.
The last few days since Charity had stormed out of the Nail had been pure torture. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. He’d stalked angrily around the ranch, throwing himself into some of the tougher physical tasks in order to let off some steam.
She’d got him good and riled, and it didn’t help that he damn well knew it was all to do with his own unwelcome physical reaction to her and nothing at all to do with the yarn store.
Which left him with two options: he either pulled himself together, put the attraction to one side, and got over it. Or he had it out with her.
He’d initially gone with the first option, since having it out with her had the potential to lead to all kinds of disasters, and besides, he’d wanted to prove to himself that she hadn’t gotten under his skin as badly as he’d feared.
Then he’d walked past the damn store and seen her inside, and he just hadn’t been able to stop himself. Something he hadn’t been able to fight had pulled him inside.
He should have announced his presence in some way, but he hadn’t, so she’d turned around with that box and almost walked straight into him. He’d had to put his hands over hers before she dropped it, and then she’d looked up, her eyes wide with surprise and so very blue.
She’d felt warm, the light coming through the windows glossing her pretty red hair, the spark of attraction in her gaze undeniable.
He should have let her go and escaped out of the store, gotten away from her while he could. But he hadn’t. So many years had gone by since that day he’d first looked into her eyes and seen the spark of desire, but it was still there, still burning.
He’d decided then and there that all he could be was honest with her, because while letting her think she’d offended him somehow was great for pushing her away, it was also a dick move. And he wasn’t supposed to be a dick these days.
So he’d told her the truth.
“I think you know what I’m talking about.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to ignore the warmth lingering on his palms. “You. Getting under my skin.”
She blinked then looked away, her cheeks rosy, the freckles dusting her nose standing out. She was in jeans again today and a plain white T-shirt, and he could see the shadow of her bra underneath it, the vaguest hint of lace. It made him think very bad thoughts.
Perhaps he should go. Perhaps being honest hadn’t been a good idea after all.
“Why tell me that?” She looked out the front window of the store, very pointedly not at him. “I mean, why would you think I’d need to know?”
“Because I think you feel the same way.”
Her head snapped around, her blue gaze clashing with his. “I do not.”
He held it. “Of course you do. You think I don’t know when a woman wants me?”
“That’s incredibly arrogant. You know that, right?”
He ignored her. “Tell me I’m wrong, then.”
“You’re wrong,” she shot back.
“Really?”
“Of course you’re wrong.” Her cheeks blazed almost as red as her hair. “Why on earth would I want you?”
“I don’t know, you tell me. But I can see the way you look at me, Charity. And I can feel the tension between us. That’s chemistry, whether you like it or not.”
Her gaze turned furious, sparks glittering in it. She looked so pretty standing there, ruffled and radiating outrage, and all because of him.
It made him think about how they weren’t seventeen anymore, and he wasn’t the angry teenage boy with his father’s wild streak who, by the time he was sixteen, had gotten a name for himself for underage drinking and stealing cars. And she wasn’t the good doctor’s young daughter, the apple of her father’s eye.
They were both consenting adults and—
You should leave.
Yet Garrett found himself rooted to the spot, unable to take a single step toward that door.
“Chemistry?” She said the word like she found the taste of it unpleasant. “What are you talking about?” She started toward him, closing the space between them until she stood right in front of him. “Well? Where is this chemistry you speak of, Garrett? Because I’m not feeling it.”
Her face was upturned to his and her eyes were the same blue of the summer sky over his ranch. She looked angry and adorable and her mouth was made for kissing. She smelled of honeysuckle and she was way too close, and he didn’t know why he was still standing here, not moving.
“No chemistry, huh?” His hands were out of his pockets and he’d pushed one of those errant curls behind her ear, his fingertips brushing over her cheek before he even knew what he was doing. Her skin felt just as soft as he thought it would. “Then why did you shiver just now?”
Because she had. He saw it, plain as day.
“It was not a shiver.” She scowled. “It was a shake of complete distaste.” And then, bizarrely, given said distaste, she took a step closer. “Here. I’ll prove it to you.” And before he could move, she lifted her hands, took his face between them, went up on her toes, and pulled his mouth down on hers.
It was an angry kiss and it hit him like a bolt of lightning, pure electricity shooting straight down his spine and grounding through his feet. He couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. He was co
nscious of nothing but the softness of her lips and the warmth of them, the feel of them on his. How her honeysuckle scent surrounded him. The heat of her palms on the side of his face...
Then, as desire surged inside him, every sensation narrowed into one bright shining thought.
He had to have more.
He reached for her, his palms settling on her hips and pulling her curvy little body against his. She didn’t protest. Her hands crept up around his neck, and she went up onto her toes, arching into him, her mouth hungry and desperate.
It had been a long time since he’d had a woman. He’d been too busy working to pay off the last of his father’s debts, getting the ranch back on track like he’d promised Gran he would. He wasn’t selfish and irresponsible the way he’d once been. He wasn’t like his father.
But he was tired of working hard all the time. And Charity Golding had occupied far too much of his brain for far too long. Finally, she was kissing him and it was just as good as he’d imagined it all those years ago, sitting at her kitchen table.
Better, even. And she tasted like the kind of reward he deserved after a long, hard day working. Softness and heat and pleasure.
He didn’t want to let her go.
But as suddenly as she’d pulled him down for a kiss, she pushed herself away. The look on her face was shocked, as if she hadn’t expected the intensity that had blossomed between them, and it was all he could do not to reach for her again and pull her back to him for more of that astonishing kiss.
He didn’t though, because she was glaring at him as if he’d personally insulted her, all flushed and gorgeous, her blue eyes glittering.
“There,” she said hoarsely. “You see? No chemistry whatsoever.”
Then, before he could argue, she turned and walked straight out the door.
CHAPTER FOUR
CHARITY CHARGED DOWN the sidewalk, barely conscious of where she was going. Her heart thumped, her pulse raced, and her lips felt seared, as though she’d pressed them against a hot coffee cup. In fact, her whole body felt seared, as though the imprint of Garrett Roy’s hard torso had been burned into hers.
She’d been incensed at his claim of chemistry. Absolutely furious when he’d told her that she wanted him. She wasn’t exactly sure why she’d been so furious, she just was, and proving him wrong seemed to be of the utmost importance.
With your mouth.
She gritted her teeth, ignoring someone’s cheery greeting as she charged on.
She never lost her temper. She never got mad. She hated confrontation. She didn’t want to hurt people, she hated yelling at them, and she didn’t like it when people were mad with her.
But apparently none of that mattered when it concerned Garrett Roy.
And not only had she lost her temper, she’d done it in the most ridiculous way possible, by trying to prove they had no chemistry with a kiss.
She didn’t know what she’d been thinking. She’d just gotten...angry. He’d stood there looking so arrogant and gorgeous, talking confidently about their chemistry like he knew anything about her. And she’d wanted to do something—anything—to shake him as badly as he’d shaken her.
A kiss had probably been the least intelligent thing to do and it had backfired on her in a spectacular fashion. Far from proving they had no chemistry, all it had done was prove the opposite.
God, she was an idiot. Where the hell did that leave her now?
She came to a stop, breathing fast, the echo of that kiss reverberating throughout her entire body, only to realize something else: she’d walked out of her own shop and left her purse behind.
Ugh. She was going to have to risk meeting him again by going back to get it, or she would have to walk aimlessly around Jasper Creek until he left the store.
Charity reached into her back pocket for her phone, since talking to her friends seemed vital in this moment, only to remember that of course she didn’t have her phone. It was in a safe in the basement.
She cursed under her breath. So, it was either humiliation or wandering aimlessly.
Then someone said from behind her, “Charity.”
The voice was deep, male, and it made every cell in her body sit up and take notice.
Charity closed her eyes. Of course it was Garrett. Of course.
She didn’t want to turn around and face him; it was too humiliating for words. But if she didn’t, she’d be acknowledging that he’d gotten to her.
Isn’t it a bit late for that?
Sadly it was. A totally unnecessary kiss before escaping out the door had more than acknowledged that.
So much for opening this yarn store being the perfect escape from stress.
Fighting for composure, Charity slowly let out a breath, opened her eyes, then forced herself to turn around.
He stood behind her, so tall and dark and gorgeous that she had to catch her breath. His gaze was completely impenetrable, that hard mouth she’d just kissed looking like it never smiled.
She couldn’t stop looking at that mouth. She couldn’t stop looking at him.
She’d kissed him. She’d kissed Garrett Roy and it had been so very good.
Had he liked it? Had it affected him as badly as it had affected her? She thought it might have since he’d pulled her against him, but maybe not. It was difficult to tell.
Why does it matter? You were proving a point, nothing more.
Of course it didn’t matter. And as for her point, well, the less said about that the better.
The beautifully carved planes and angles of his face betrayed nothing. She had no idea why he’d followed her.
Then he held out her purse. “You forgot this.”
Right. So he’d come after her, but only because she’d forgotten her purse.
Not because he liked the kiss. Not because he wanted more.
Color burned in her cheeks for absolutely no reason. No, it was good. She didn’t want more. She didn’t want anything from him at all. In fact, it would be better all around if she never saw him again. Maybe she could dig a hole in the ground and go live in it for the foreseeable future.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly and reached for the purse.
But he held on to it, fire glittering in his silver eyes. A heat burned into her, stealing all her breath. “I’ll be at the Nail tonight. If you want to join me for a drink.”
For a second, Charity wasn’t sure if she’d heard him right. Then she opened her mouth to double-check that was what he’d said, but he abruptly let go of her purse and stepped back. He raised his hand, tipped his hat, gave her one last searing look, then he walked away, leaving her staring after him.
What had just happened? Had he really asked her to join him for a drink? And if so, why? Was it a date? What?
Heart still thumping, Charity walked slowly back in the direction of the yarn store, deciding that for the rest of the day, she was not going to think about Garrett Roy.
Unfortunately, though, her brain wasn’t taking commands. It didn’t matter what she did, it kept replaying that ill-considered kiss over and over again. Making her feel hot and restless and shooting her concentration all to hell.
She wasn’t going to go and meet him. Of course she wasn’t. Was she?
Later that afternoon, she got home to the farmhouse to find everyone else already there.
Pru was on cooking that night and she stood at the stove looking critically into the pot of whatever she was stirring, blond hair stuck to her forehead, while Kit sat at the table dressed in one of her black “New York fashion” sacks and peeling potatoes. Hope leaned against the counter, sipping on a mug of tea and offering unwanted advice.
They all looked at Charity as she came in.
“What happened?” Kit asked immediately, putting down the potato she was peeling.
Dammit. So much for her game face.
>
Charity pulled out a chair, sat down at the table, and looked at her friends’ expectant expressions. She knew there was no way she was getting out of this one. She was going to have to tell them the truth.
“You really want to know?” she said. “I kissed stupid Garrett Roy.”
There was a silence.
“Wow,” Hope murmured. “I approve.”
“I was going to ask why,” Kit said. “But then it’s obvious why. He’s hot.”
“He’s annoying,” Charity said crossly, full of renewed anger at herself. “And he was being arrogant in the store today and he said we had chemistry so I had to prove that we didn’t.”
“So of course you kissed him.” Pru glanced up from the stove. “I’m sure that worked out well.”
Charity sighed. “Pretty much as well as you’d expect. And then he said he was going to be at the Nail tonight if I wanted to join him.”
Kit picked up her potato and examined it with a critical eye. “That sounds very much like an invitation to me.”
“Hell, yeah,” Hope agreed, pausing to glance in Pru’s pot. “You know what would go very well with that?”
“If you say salmon I’ll hit you with this wooden spoon.” Pru kept her gaze on the pot.
“I think threatening to hit someone with a wooden spoon is a violation of the house rules,” Hope said, frowning.
Charity ignored them, the restless feeling inside her making her want to get up and pace around the kitchen. Normally she’d take a few calming breaths and go through her mindfulness exercises until the feeling passed. But it wasn’t passing. In fact, if anything, it was increasing.
Aggravated, Charity gave in, shoving back her chair and getting to her feet, pacing over to the counter and then back to the table again while her friends looked at her in surprise.
“I don’t want to join him,” she said. “I didn’t come back to Jasper Creek to get it on with someone. I came back to reopen the yarn store and that’s it.”
Kit raised a brow. “And what’s wrong with getting it on with someone?”