“I am so sorry. I thought you had it.”
She groped around in a desperate attempt to catch some of the treats before they were ruined. Her hands made contact with his firm body, grazing his zipper before realizing the error she had made.
She jumped back.
“I’m—I’m—I’m…”
“Let me guess. Sorry?”
“I’m gonna go now.”
Almost out the door, she startled at his warm hand grabbing her shoulder.
She flung around. Now that he had stepped toward the door, she could almost make out the lines of his face. The perfect nose, the sculpted cheeks, the scruffy facial hair—not a beard, but certainly not freshly shaven. She couldn’t see details, but she could tell he was a handsome man. A young one, too. She’d guess he was around her age—maybe a little older.
“You’re young!”
“Is that an accusation?”
She stumbled over her response.
“I just, well, usually the people I help are in their eighties.”
Not a trace of humor crossed his lips.
“They didn’t tell you about me?”
“Only that you were cranky and difficult, but that describes at least sixty percent of the people we work with, so I didn’t think much about it.”
She felt his gaze penetrating her skin.
She smiled as she added, “For the record, I like cranky and difficult people.”
“You can leave the groceries on the back porch. Don’t come to the door.”
He turned away, dismissing her.
Ignoring the cautionary flip in her gut, she followed him further into the darkness.
“Mr. Witherford, I pride myself on the personal attention I give to my—”
Before she could finish her sentence, he had spun around and pushed her against the wall.
She lost all ability to breathe as his body pressed against hers. She was strong. But not strong enough.
His coffee-scented breath warmed her face, and she could finally see his eyes.
Not the color so much, but the emotion.
Raw. Self-loathing. Bitter.
The muscles around her eyes softened at the realization that Ethan Witherford was a wounded bird.
And Simplicity had an affinity for protecting and saving wounded birds.
“You can’t drive me away,” she proclaimed. “You need me.”
He responded by pressing his lips to hers in desperate urgency.
She reached up to hit him, to yank him away, but instead she rested her hand on the back of his head and pulled him closer.
His kiss started hard, punishing, but quickly became potent. Not gentle, not romantic. Not even magical.
Addictive.
She settled into the kiss, allowing the unexpected passion to wash over her, cuddling her in the warm cocoon of blossoming desire.
She moaned.
He withdrew.
“Get out.”
He didn’t look at her. His voice dripped with disgust. Disgust with himself or with her, she didn’t know.
All she knew was humiliation.
How could she have allowed him to kiss her like that? It was high on the list of inappropriate things Simplicity had been known to do, and she had promised herself (and her sister) that she was going to lead a cleaner life here in Healing Springs.
How could she have allowed herself to be swept up in whatever demons this guy fought?
“Are you too simple to see that the door is over there?”
His nasty tone and demeaning play on her name completely hid the tenderness he had almost shown her when he had her against the wall.
Words refused to take shape, so she picked up whatever threads of self-preservation she had remaining and marched out the door.
More From Amanda Torrey
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Books by Amanda Torrey
Teen Fury Trilogy (Young Adult Paranormal)
Unleashed (Book One)
Embraced (Book Two)
Atoned (Book Three)
Teen Fury Trilogy: The Complete Collection (Boxed Set)
Healing Springs Series (Adult Contemporary Romance)
*Books in this series can be read in any order*
Not Over You
Stay
A Heart to Call Home
Two Is A Lonely Number
Loving a Wildflower
So Complicated
Paisley's story - Coming Soon!
Also by Amanda Torrey
The Immortal Contract (Adult Paranormal Romance)
Two Is a Lonely Number Page 19