Trouble (Dogwood Lane 3)

I turn to tell Matt that I’m taking my time on this project just so it won’t be done when Dane gets back. Before I can get the words out, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I whip around to see an empty room behind me.

“What’s wrong?” Matt asks.

“Nothing. I just felt like someone was standing there.”

“Maybe it’s a ghost. Are you going to be scared if you’re in here all alone?”

“I . . .” My voice trails off as Avery walks in. She slips a pair of sunglasses off her face and lets her eyes fall on me. “I’ve never been scared of ghosts that look like that.”

My heart skips a beat as I instinctively start toward her. Whether she knows it or not, she moves my direction too.

“Damn Harper,” she says, fighting a grin.

“You’ve second-guessed the end to our night all morning, haven’t you?” I ask. “Just had to come find me.”

“What would make you say that?”

“Well, why else would you be here?”

She laughs, sticking her sunglasses in her purse. “I love how you think that every single thing revolves around you.”

“I don’t think everything revolves around me. But I also know a spade is a spade, if you catch my drift.”

The yellow V-neck shirt she’s wearing makes her skin glow. Her hair is in this half-up, half-down thing that draws attention to her face. And cleavage. Definitely to her cleavage.

“I’ll have you know,” she says, “that I didn’t know you were here. Harper sent me over to see about a painting job.” She looks around the room. “Hey, Matt.”

He waves.

“Am I in the right spot?” Avery asks. “Harper said it was the old library, and I swear that’s what the sign said outside.”

“This is it.”

Matt comes up beside me. “One question: How bad was Penn’s pickup line last night?”

Avery readjusts her purse on her arm and looks at me with a cocked brow. “You told Matt you attempted a pickup line last night? Because if I remember correctly, you couldn’t even think of one.”

Matt cackles until I threaten to jab him in the spleen.

“I was more than a little disappointed,” she says.

“I couldn’t think of one, Ave, because guys like me don’t need them.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I do love that you were disappointed. That means you wanted an excuse to cave.”

I’m confident with this explanation. It’s self-evident. She knows it’s true. Still, she doesn’t back down.

“First of all, I don’t need an excuse to cave. If I want to cave, I’ll cave.”

“Feel free,” I say with a grin.

“I’m good. Thanks.” She lifts a brow. “Second, if you don’t need pickup lines, what do you use?”

“For what?”

She rolls her eyes. “To win over women.”

“Easy.” I grin. “My charm.”

She doesn’t look impressed.

“And my abs.”

“Oh, please,” Matt says.

“Fine.” I ensure my features are as smooth as silk as I bore my eyes into Avery’s. “My cock.”

Matt howls with laughter, but Avery doesn’t. A grin tickles her lips as her cheeks turn a shade of pink I’d call Bashful.

My body lights up at her reaction. I can feel her blush in my veins, the heat of it blazing from my head to my toes.

Damn this girl.

“Good thing I’m unimpressed with charm and abs then,” she says.

“But you still like cock, huh?” I crack. “Good to know.”

She moves as if her body can’t bear to stand in place. It’s as if she has as much energy coursing through her as I do.

My chest rises and falls at a quickened pace as I hold my breath and wonder if she’s going to do what I think she is: talk about cock. If she does, heaven help me, I may lose it right here.

“I do like cock,” she says, watching me closely. “I’m just tired of mediocre cock.”

I’m dead.

My hands ball into fists at my side as I restrain myself from reacting to the influx of testosterone flooding me—from the idea of her and my cock and . . . I can’t.

I press a hard swallow down my throat. “May I remind you that I’m a solid eight inches?”

“May I remind you that it doesn’t impress me?”

If this were anyone else, I’d toss her a smart-ass line and walk away because I’d know she’d chase after me. But Avery? She might not. I’m fairly sure she wouldn’t, actually. Worst of all is that I’d want her to.

I narrow my eyes. “Fair enough. What impresses you, then?”

Matt stays quiet. There’s undoubtedly a remark on the tip of his tongue. I can tell by the way he shifts his weight. I’m usually out the door if a woman gives me this much trouble, and I know Matt is eating it up that I’m still standing here and sparring with her. I’m just glad he keeps his mouth shut this time.