She presses her lips together and glares at me.
I grin. I wonder if I rile her up enough, whether she’ll throw something at me, or chase me around with a cast iron pan, then we can make up by kissing. I study her expression. Or not.
I frown. “You really don’t want to kiss?”
“I really don’t want to kiss.”
I breathe in the mountain air and inwardly curse. Going without her kisses will be like going without air.
“Is it because I don’t remember and you’re afraid of being hurt, or is it because you’re already hurt and I’m an ass?” I study her expression. “Or are you afraid I’ll remember our past and then you’ll get hurt?”
Across the grass, the kids laugh and sprint around the coop, Scooter runs after them, barking excitedly.
“Yes.” Jamie pushes past me and stalks toward the house.
“Yes to which one?” I call after her.
She waves her hand in the air. I jog after her, catching up. “Does that mean all three?”
“That means no kisses.”
I look up at the darkening sky, at the birds swooping around, picking their dinner out of the air. “Alright. Deal.”
She stops and gives me a surprised look. Then, she seems to realize she’s showing her cards so she sticks her chin in the air and gives me a superior look.
“Good. If you want to feed the chickens and close them in for the night, I’ll get to supper.”
She turns to go and I catch her wrist. She stops and looks over her shoulder at me, and seemingly against her better judgment, her eyes turn warm and hazy. Her skin is warm and smooth and her pulse flutters under my hand.
I smile at her. “Even without kisses, I still want you. I’m going to like getting to know you again.”
I let go of her wrist and she practically runs to the house.
I watch her go and let out a long sigh. The logical side of my brain agrees with her, getting to know each other again is smart. But the other part of me, the part that’s hard and straining for her right now, it’s telling me that there’s going to be many, many cold showers in my future.