No such luck. She found him in the living room. He was sitting on the couch with a grin on his face.
“What’s so funny?” she said with suspicion.
“Nothing. Just happy to see you.”
Kirsty’s eyes flicked to the curtains. They were still shut.
“Finished with the phone calls, then?” he asked.
“I blooming well hope so,” Kirsty grumbled as she threw the phone on the coffee table.
He patted the couch beside him. Kirsty’s eyes narrowed. She went over to the dining
table and sat stiffly on a wooden chair.
“So suspicious,” he said with a shake of his head.
She didn’t want to tell him that it wasn’t suspicion, it was self-preservation. She was in over her head and had no idea how to swim.
“About your list...” he started.
Kirsty held up her hand to stop him.
“I’ve had enough of that for tonight.”
“We haven’t even made a dent in it,” he said with a wicked smile that did funny things to her resolve.
“It will still be there tomorrow. I can wait. The kissing worked fine, let’s quit while we’re ahead.”
“Glad to hear the kissing worked,” he said as his blue eyes darkened. “But the night is young and I’m here to help you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Yes.” He stood up slowly and walked to stand in front of her. “You do.”
Kirsty swallowed hard as she looked up at him.
“Now, what else was on that list?” he said with a smile that could tease paint off a wall. “Oh yeah, my steroid muscles and the fact you’re worried about scars.”
Kirsty jerked up straight.
“If you think I’m showing you my scars, Lake Benson, then you have another think coming,” she said.
Lake leaned forward and kissed her again. It was gentle and sweet. His hand trailed down her cheek before he stood away from her.
“No, you’re not showing me your scars. I’m showing you mine.”
Kirsty’s eyes went wide as Lake kicked off his boots.
“You’re doing what?” she squeaked.
He shrugged with a heavy dose of false humility.
“I’m helping you,” he said. “Focus, Kirsty—this is just like therapy. Only better. You obviously have a thing about muscles and scars. So I figure the best way to help you get over it is to let you look at mine.” He grinned widely. “Let you touch mine.”
Kirsty felt a pull deep in her body.
“And you won’t touch me?” she said suspiciously.