Covet (Sinful Secrets 3)

The second our eyes meet, Finley’s brows arch and her lips round into an “o.” As I close the distance between us, she looks back up at the boulder again and then, reluctantly, at me. Nervous.

As soon as I’m beside her, I give her a how ya doin’ look, and she drops her gaze down to her feet as her cheeks flush.

I knew it.

“Whatcha see down there?”

She laughs softly and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Woman is so shy, she can’t even answer me. I swat her messy ponytail.

“I see something.”

She turns to me with startled eyes, and I wiggle my brows. “Something in your hair.”

“What was it?”

“Bug.” I smirk.

She makes a face, and I tug her ponytail again. “Got it that time.”

“Thank goodness.”

When she still won’t look at me, I close my hand around her ponytail and smooth it gently down. “How many times do I have to pull on this to see your face?”

Her eyes lift to mine, and I’m relieved to find a small smile on her lips. A shy smile. I let go of her hair, and she looks down again.

“Don’t be shy, Siren.”

Her blush deepens. “I’m not.”

“Yeah you are.”

She shakes her head, pursing her lips as she examines the floor. I crouch down in front of her, and she laughs. “You’re so odd, Carnegie!”

“I’ve been told that.”

“Get up now.” Her fingers stroke my hair. “I want to show you something.”

I stand, and she points up at the boulder, which looks bigger than it did last time I saw it.

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“Damn. You got a lot of rock down.” I hold my hand up, palm out, for a high-five before I remember she’s not a Sox bro, but she high-fives me anyway.

“Push on it,” she whispers.

I do, and it moves so much, my knees nearly give out with relief. “Well, hell. I think I might be able to move this fucker.” I look over at her. “Can you spot me?”

She lets out a little squeal then bounces on the balls of her feet. “Wait! What does that mean?” She laughs.

“Just push up on it like I am. If it gets unstable or I’m pushing and I lose my grip on it, I’ll give you some warning, and you can duck out of the way.”

“Are you fine to do it? You don’t want to wait till later?”

“I’m good.”

I push up, grabbing the edge I now can reach since she cleared more rock from the cave’s mouth. I get my hands around the edge of the cool stone, noting that it’s not that thick: maybe eight inches. Using all the muscle of my arms and back, I push. When I feel it give and shift, I shove harder.

Wind caresses my hands and my wrists, and I hear Finley laughing. I don’t dare look up. I push harder. No movement. I inhale, and then I push again. A bolt of hot, near-paralyzing pain shoots through my shoulder, but I keep on. I feel Finley pushing with me. When it doesn’t budge, she whispers something that sounds like a swear word. We both shove.