Water she wasn’t worried about, but Gage getting closer? Much more nerve-wracking. He was the one man who made her heart shake in her chest, and the closer he came, the less she could deny how she felt about him. And that terrified her.
She looked into his intensely dark eyes. With the orange glow of the fire gone and the clouds muting the light of the moon and stars, Gage’s gaze slid over her skin like a touch she wanted to get lost in.
She knew better, but he was her drug, and with him in front of her, she couldn’t say no.
She took a step forward, stood on her toes to kiss him—
“Ah!”—and fell right on her ass in the mud. “Oh, God.”
Gage smiled and bent to help her up. Mortification surged through her like hot water. This was nowhere near a fantasy. This was real and embarrassing, nothing sexy about it.
She moved to run away, but Gage caught her arm. “I thought you weren’t afraid.”
Right then, with his hand on her skin and his gaze searching hers, fear buzzed in her chest. But it wasn’t the rain, or even him setting it off—it was something deeper, something she’d been denying for weeks.
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t stay. It was getting too real.
“I’m not. I’m fine,” she fibbed and hustled away. Gage caught up with her near the tree line before she reached her car. Everyone had left. A few people were inside East’s house. Gage closed in, the splattering sound of his boots tromping through the mud made her skin buzz. His entire presence was engulfing her.
He pressed against her. “When are you going to stop running?”
“When are you going to stop chasing?”
He stared at her for a long moment, uncertainty in his normally confident gaze.
“What if I said I wanted to keep chasing you for as long as I was in town?”
“I’d say you’re crazy.”
He dropped his coat, and the rain pelted them both. Even beneath the tree and in the darkness, she felt him. Smelled him. Wanted him.
“You come in and out of town,” Chloe said. “Anything longer than a weekend complicates things. Don’t you see that?”
He nodded, and Chloe arched an eyebrow. He was agreeing with her?
“What if complication was a consideration?” he asked.
“It doesn’t work that way, Gage.” She wiped her brow and moved her hair off her face as rain streaked down from the top of her head to her neck. “You come in for a weekend, we have a good time, and you leave. That’s worked well for us, but anything longer comes with…”
“Strings?”
Truth was, she was more attached to him than ever—and it terrified her. The more she felt for him, the more power he had over her emotions. Her heart.
Distance had provided an excuse before, but now he was standing in front of her, in her town for a few weeks, and she wanted to touch him all the time. She could think of little else—which was a problem. She was dangerously close to handing her heart over to a man for him to do as much or as little with it as he wanted.
And then, after everything, he would leave.
“We have great sex,” she hedged.
Gage frowned. “Can you look at me right now and say this is still just sex to you?”
She pursed her lips. No, this was absolutely more than sex, but she couldn’t say that.
“This is why I don’t date,” she whispered.
He ran his fingers over her cheekbone. “It’s only been a week.”
“It’s more than that.” It was the past two years. It was the way he looked at her, the way he tapped into every fantasy she had, the way he gave a damn. The way he made her cave.