“Go for it.” I nodded toward the pile of treats and then opened a cabinet, stretching on my tiptoes to reach a tray at the top. Darn it, maybe asking long-legged Jake to help me unpack hadn’t been the best idea.
“I’ve got it,” Cruz said softly as he reached over me. His breath rambled its way through my messy mop of hair as he spoke. His warm, firm chest pressed against my back, causing the butterflies in my stomach to flutter.
“Thanks,” I whispered, staring at the tray he held in front of us, his arm circling my waist. “I guess I’ll need to get a step stool in here.” Feeling his warmth draw away, I turned, only to bump into his chest as he stared down at me. “Oops, sorry.”
“No need to be sorry,” he muttered as he tucked some of my errant hair behind my ear. “You’re too damn beautiful, you know that?” We were standing so close that I felt the end of his whispered statement leave his lips. I inhaled sharply, torn between making the safe decision and getting lost in the pull of Cruz’s leafy-green eyes.
I took one last pull of his tangy scent, and I made my choice.
Reaching up, I tugged gently, lowering Cruz’s face to mine. I looked into his soft, searching eyes as I pressed my mouth to his.
His body jerked for a fraction of a second, and I was about to pull back and apologize, but Cruz lifted me up and placed me on the counter, never breaking the kiss. I was on his level now, mouth to mouth. He wedged himself between my legs, tugging me even closer as our lips energetically greeted one another. As good as it felt to kiss him, my body remained on guard, spine straight.
“Relax,” Cruz said softly after a few moments, stroking the sensitive point on my throat with his thumb. “Just relax, Lex.”
And that’s all the encouragement I needed to liberate nearly six months of pent-up longing for the man standing before me.
I pushed my fingers into his hair and ran them along his shoulder blades, eager to touch him now that I had my chance. His musky citrus cologne washed over me as he tilted my head back and kissed me deeper, all the while holding me firmly in place. I let out a soft moan when I felt something firm glide over my tongue, clinking gently against the roof of my mouth. I’d read about tongue piercings, but no description even came close to how fantastic it actually felt. There were no tentative movements with this man. No, Cruz knew his strengths, and kissing was one of them. His skilled tongue brushed against mine again, powerful and sure.
He ran his hands along my ribs slowly, savoring each second. He drew his lips from mine and nipped at my ear before running his tongue down my jawline. Pretty sure I was going to die from internal combustion, I slowly pulled back to catch my breath.
“That tongue piercing is new,” I rambled, crossing my arms in front of me as I panted. “And freaking hot.” I slapped my hand over my slightly swollen mouth. Shut up, shut up, I pleaded with myself. Cruz shot me a smug, highly satisfied grin. “I need air. I can’t breathe. I think your mouth is affecting my brain or something.” My eyes widened as I kept spewing random thoughts. “Oh my gosh. I’m sorry.”
“There’s absolutely no reason to be sorry, Sunshine,” Cruz said, wrapping a hand around the side of my face and running his thumb over my bottom lip. “That was amazing.” He peered into my eyes as if he were seeing me for the first time.
The sound of my gulp echoed throughout the kitchen. “So, uhhh, that was unexpected.”
“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” Cruz admitted, cocking his handsome face to the side.
“Me too,” I murmured, swallowing mouthfuls of precious air as my body hummed. Cruz grinned again and bit his lip as he ran a hand through his crop of dark hair.
This was even better than our first kiss. This was on a whole new level of kisses. Cruz’s green eyes crinkled at the corners as he flashed me a full-on smile when I ran my hand over his stubbly cheek. I wanted to get lost in those eyes, but I knew I had to tread carefully.
This was Cruz Drakov. Just last month I’d seen photos of him with six starlets—all of them gorgeous, all of them famous, none of them anything like me. And he was only in town for a few weeks. He wasn’t staying in Sage Springs, and I couldn’t leave. Be smart, I reminded myself.
“Cruz, I’m not like the other girls you date,” I started, turning my eyes to the frayed edge of a dishtowel on the counter so I wouldn’t have to look at him and forget why being together would be a bad thing.
“Tell me about it,” he sighed. Both of his hands gently turned my face to his so we were eye to eye. “Lexi, I can’t get you out of my head.”
“Really?” I studied the golden rings inside the green of his irises, searching for the truth.
He sighed again and scrubbed his hands over his face. “The scent of your cinnamon skin freaking haunts me, Lexi. Haunts me. Then there’s your messy blonde hair and trusting hazel eyes and happy-go-lucky attitude. You are sweet and you see the good in everyone. You wear pink and like pop music, for Christ’s sake. You’re exactly the opposite of what I’ve ever wanted.” Cruz crossed his arms over his chest, planting himself directly in front of me again. “But I need you. I need to see where this goes.”
Ivy’s, Eliza’s, and Aggie’s voices whirled through my mind, whispering encouragement. The practical part of me, though, knew I was going to get in over my head if I let go of my no-player stance.
But the new, more experienced part of me wanted to go after what I wanted while I had the chance.
And I wanted Cruz Drakov.
I tugged at my hair as Cruz and I had a silent standoff. “Just a date?”
He nodded, running a hand over my thigh. “Maybe more.”
I shook my head, trying to clear it. His touches clouded my thoughts. “Okay, but let’s be smart about it, okay?” I said the last part aloud more for my own benefit than for his. I needed to keep my head above the water, but I wanted so badly to get swept up in Cruz’s spellbinding touch. “We’re leading different lives.”
“We’re totally wrong for each other,” he agreed, nodding slowly. “Completely.”
“I know,” I sighed, sliding off the counter to return to the pumpkin puffs and away from his rejection. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
He gripped my hand and spun me to face him again. “But see, I don’t give a damn about our differences.”
“Really?” His face was painted with passion—mouth set in a firm line, eyes determined.
“I can’t knock you from my system. It’s not like I haven’t tried,” he said, more to himself than to me. He shrugged. “We’re going to date. I’m going to go with my gut on this one, and my gut wants you.” He kissed my forehead. “And your messy hair.” His hand slid over my blonde tresses in a caress. “And your beautiful face that’s usually covered in flour.” He lifted his thumbs to my cheeks and wiped away the white streaks that I was certain were there. “Don’t think about it. Just feel.” He grasped my hands. “Does it feel good to be around me?”
“Well, sure, but I don’t do casual hookups, Cruz. It’s not in me to have meaningless flings, and this won’t last.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who said anything about hooking up?” Cruz laughed, face lighting up with humor.
I lightly punched him in the chest, the corners of my lips tipping up.
“You call the shots,” Cruz added, dipping down to meet my eyes. “No more and no less than what you’re ready for. Let me take you out tomorrow night.” His thumb ran back and forth along the inside of my wrist, sending tingles up my arm.
If it didn’t work out, at least maybe I’d finally be able to rip down that photo of Cruz’s handsome face that was taped up in my mental locker of what-ifs.
However, if it started to work out …
No. I promptly stomped on that idea before I got ahead of myself.
I pursed my lips in thought, taking in the ruggedly handsome man standing in my pink kitchen. He was wrong for me, but at the same time, he was so undeniably right. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he asked, his whole
face lighting up like a window display at Christmastime.
“Okay, but so we’re clear, I’m not going to be a notch on your bedpost,” I sniffed, crossing my arms.
“That’s okay. I know plenty of other ways to pass the time.” His tongue ran over his teeth as he flashed an irresistible grin. I caught a glimpse of the slim metal bar I now knew intimately.
Outwardly, I put my hands on my hips and shook my head. Inwardly, however, I felt something in my stomach flip in a very unfamiliar way.
“Let’s get the fun started, shall we?” He smoothed his hands over my hair again and kissed my forehead.
Just enjoy the time, Lexi, I reminded myself as my eyes fluttered shut at his tender gesture.
CHAPTER 10
An hour later Cruz was draped across the couch as I put my last batch of caramel cookies in the oven.
“You’re going to get a stomachache,” I sang in warning, watching as he bit into another pumpkin puff. He had a plate, which had been full at one point, strategically balanced on his taut chest.
He grinned up at me. “Totally worth it.”
I chuckled and walked into the living room, squeezing myself in the small space left between his feet and the arm of the couch. “What are you up to tomorrow?” I asked. He moved his feet to my lap and gave an exaggerated stretch.
“Oh, you know, breaking hearts, taking names,” he replied.
I snorted and gave a playful shove to his feet. “Whatever.”
“Fine. I’m interviewing someone who says he had a paranormal experience at the sanatorium last year. He claims he caught some photos of orbs.” Cruz’s tone dripped of skepticism.
“Not a fan of orbs?”
He eyed me as he rotated his shoulders. “No. They’re balls of fluff flying through the air. You and I both know that.”
“Yeah, but the people who adore Crazy Cruz sure seem to enjoy those balls of fluff,” I reminded him. His online followers posted photos all the time of “sightings” for Cruz to validate.
Cruz’s mouth pinched in irritation. “Crazy Cruz. That’s the lamest nickname ever.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad, but your fans seems to like it.”
“Thanks, Sunshine.” His lips formed a straight line as he eyed me from his reclined position.
“On the other hand, Sunshine is a pretty great nickname.”
Cruz grabbed the empty plate resting on his chest and sat up. His long form unfolded in a way that made my pulse quicken. Then again, maybe it was simply the strip of exposed flesh on his stomach as he stretched that had me sitting straighter and paying attention.
“And it fits you,” Cruz responded. “You’re always so happy and bubbly. You’re like a constant ray of sunshine.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my smile at a normal level. I swear my lips wanted to reach up and high-five my eyebrows because of his compliment. “You just moved in here, huh?” His head swiveled to take in the cottage.
“Sure did.”
“Do you ever get lonely out here?”
“Not yet,” I answered, standing as the timer sounded, signaling my last batch of cookies was done for the evening. “Besides, Dorothy is around a lot.”
“Dorothy?” Cruz’s eyebrows drew together as he followed me into the kitchen.
“Yeah, she’s my great-aunt and the former owner. She’s a resident of the ethereal kind,” I said, cluing him in. “She’s pretty cool.”
“Of course you’d move into a haunted house,” he said dryly.
“It’s Sage Springs. It’s impossible to find places without ghosts,” I told him. “I think I’m going to get a pet tomorrow for some real companionship, though. I finally have the space, and I wouldn’t mind the company.” I batted at Cruz’s hand as he snatched a caramel cookie. “You’re going to burn your–”
“Mother—” Cruz’s eyes widened as he dashed to the sink, pulled out the hose, and shot water directly into his mouth.
“Are you okay?” I grabbed a cup from the cupboard and poured milk into it. “Here.”
Cruz plucked the glass from my outstretched hand and took giant gulps. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he angled his head back to finish the milk. Such a kissable throat, I thought.
“Lesson learned,” Cruz said, eyeing the cookies like they’d done him wrong.
Placing the caramel goodies on a cooling rack and refusing to think about his throat, I shook my head in dismay. “You’d think you’d never been around cookies right out of the oven before.”
“That’s because I haven’t,” he said simply.
“Didn’t you ever bake with your mom?” He shook his head. “Grandma?” Again, he shook his head.
My heart hurt for him. Most of the best memories I had of my grandmas and my mother were our times spent in the kitchen creating recipes and fussing over holiday meals.
“My family isn’t very traditional,” he explained.
“Not even around the holidays?”
“Nope.”
“That’s a shame,” I responded, wanting to know more, but trying really hard to be respectful of boundaries. Eliza was always telling me I asked people questions that were too personal.
“Eh, I turned out mostly okay, so no harm done.” He rinsed his glass in the sink before turning to face me. “Just don’t ask me to make you breakfast in the morning.”
“That will not be an issue,” I chuckled, becoming less and less shocked by Cruz’s comments.
“Maybe not tomorrow morning, but it’ll happen,” he declared, running his finger over my bare arm. There was no hint of uncertainty in his voice, which should have had me on edge.
But it didn’t. It had the opposite effect, and my skin began to feel tight and prickly at Cruz’s self-assured announcement.
“What’s your family like?” I blurted, desperate to change the subject.
He raised his eyebrows at my question.
“My family’s like nothing someone like you has ever or should ever be around,” he answered, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing at the wooden floorboards.
I’d heard tales from Ivy about how the Drakovs were a cutthroat coven comprised of witches of varying strengths. Ivy had dated Cruz’s older brother, but that hadn’t gone well.
“Are they really that bad?” I asked, hopping up on the counter beside him.
“They’re …” Cruz looked around the kitchen as if a word might pop out at him. “Cold. The majority of my family members prefer dark magic, which as you’ve seen, takes a toll on the soul.”
Oh, I’d seen it all right. The insane spirit I’d glimpsed last May still gave me nightmares.
“They’re, like, evil?” I inquired, trying to see where Cruz fit into this picture. He wasn’t evil. A charmer, yes, a heartbreaker, probably, but I’d known him long enough to know he wouldn’t hurt others on purpose.
“I wouldn’t say evil,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re out for power. They like the other covens to kowtow to them. Dimitri’s been a little less of an asshole lately, but even he’s dicey, depending on the day. The rest of my family?” He turned to look at me and shrugged. “We don’t talk much anymore. It’s better to keep my distance, you know?”
I didn’t know. My family had always been a tight-knit group. I’d never even gone through the teenage stage where I didn’t want to be seen with my parents in public. They were great. But I didn’t want to make Cruz feel bad, so I simply nodded.
“Is that why you don’t broadcast that you’re a witch?” I asked, turning to rearrange some cookies on the cooling rack to keep my hands busy.
“Yeah, seeing ghosts has enough of an appeal to keep the TV audience interested,” he answered. “I’ve learned it’s better to hold my cards close to my chest.”
I could see why. It would be tough to trust anyone if you’d grown up with the Drakovs and then turned to TV and thousands of fans to make your career. “What’s it like being a witch?”
Cruz lifted a
shoulder. “Okay, I guess. I’ve never known a different way.”
“Do you do magic every day?” My eyes lit up at the thought. Ivy had only recently started doing a little more magic.
“Nah, there’s not much use for it with what I do for a living,” he replied, pouring himself more milk and coming to stand in front of me. “I’m a face on the TV. I’m just glad I don’t have to be Dimitri’s right-hand man anymore.”
I crinkled my nose in disgust. “That doesn’t sound fun.”
“It wasn’t, which is why I jumped at the chance to take the TV show gig when Alex contacted me. It’s not the best job, but it keeps me out of St. Louis most of the year.”
Needing to touch him, I reached out and cupped his prickly jaw in my hands. “It seems to me you’re doing pretty well.”
“Yeah.” He lifted a side of his mouth in a cocky smile and placed his hands on my hips. “I’m headed in the right direction.”
Bam-bam-bam-boom-boom-boom!
“What the hell?” Cruz asked, jumping at the sound of my doorbell.
“Someone’s at the door,” I answered, hesitant to step away from him. I liked getting to see this version of Cruz. No winks and jokes. Actual emotion emanated from his eyes as he spoke of his life.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“That’s not the doorbell,” Cruz ground out, glaring at the door as someone slammed his or her fists against it. Cruz grabbed my hand as I started toward the front of the cottage. “You should stay here,” he said, moving past me.
“It’s fine. I’ll see who it is,” I soothed. Cruz made a growling sound of disagreement, and I felt him close behind me as I neared the door. Peeking out the curtain, I saw Justin standing on the front porch.
I groaned. Of course this would be the way I had to end the best evening I’d had in a long time.
“It’s Justin,” I told Cruz. “He’s harmless.”
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