She could’ve said an urban professional.
A well-groomed man, someone who wore Burberry for work and James Perse for weekends.
She should’ve said, Anyone but you.
But for some reason, her tongue stuck in her mouth as her eyes locked with his. They were a vibrant blue, glittering with desire that’d become unchecked. He looked like he was going to kiss her.
And it was looking like she might let him.
Twenty-one
Eddie couldn’t help it. His years of wanting her, his frustration and anger. The way she lashed out, intentionally misunderstanding him. He couldn’t hold back anymore. She’d always gotten to him, even when they were kids. Except back then, when she riled him, all he’d had to do was tug her ponytail. Now he wanted more.
To touch her, just once. He needed to bring this thing—whatever it was—to a head.
He placed the gentlest finger beneath her chin. “You didn’t answer me. ”
He’d expected her to flinch, but instead her breath caught. Those gorgeous, sparkling eyes were wide, staring at him. The barest suggestion of tears appeared, shimmering, making them even bluer.
He pulled his hand away, fisting it at his side. Was she scared of him? She ate men like him for breakfast. What was going on in her head?
She could’ve taken up her concerns with Jack, but instead she’d dogged him. She could’ve been colder, but the anger s
he hurled at him was fueled by a deep-seated passion. Passion that ran hot.
“Who are you really, Laura Bailey? What are you doing here?”
“I came to stop you. ”
He sighed, so tired of this backing and forthing. “No, I mean here. In Sierra Falls. Why are you alone? What happened?” The need to touch her again was unbearable, but he fought it. He’d never touch what wasn’t his to take.
“Nothing happened. ”
“Why are you alone?”
“I just am,” she said, looking ready to snap.
“But you’re so goddamned beautiful. I know you know it. I see you running along the side of the road in those little short shorts. What are you running from?”
“Nothing. ”
Why wouldn’t she trust him? “You’re running from me. ”
A strand of hair blew into her lashes. The whites of her eyes had turned pink in the corners, like she was holding back some fierce and secret emotion. He ached to smooth the hair from her face. To cup her cheeks and kiss her once on each eye, to make them shine bright again.
“I don’t run from anyone. ” Her voice wavered, like she didn’t really believe it.
“Then why no boyfriend?” She was so near, he could feel the heat of her, smell her feminine scent, like flowery soap. He was dying to close the gap, but he’d never touch a woman against her will.
“I don’t need a boyfriend. I’m not interested in you or anyone. ” She looked away, and he watched as she bristled, her gaze sharpening, focusing inside the truck bed.
He followed her eyes to a gray hoodie. One of the kids had left it behind in the van.
She added primly, “I’m especially not interested in a man who won’t take responsibility for his own kid. Or is it kids?”
He was stunned speechless. He’d come to expect her crazy accusations, but this was ridiculous.
“Well?” she demanded. “Do you have a kid?”