When she added self-righteousness to indignity it made him want to hit something. Instead he did the only other thing he shouldn’t do.
He grabbed her—there was no other word for it—and pulled her into him. His face was less than an inch from hers. He could feel her breathing accelerate; he could see the panic in her eyes, but neither stopped him.
“This is what I’ve been thinkin’ about, Bree.” He pulled her body into his and crushed his mouth into hers. Every other thought left his head, until he heard her whimper.
He broke away from her and sat back. “God, Bree, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She had the back of her hand over her mouth, and when he looked into her eyes, he saw them fill with tears.
“Shit, Bree. Dammit. I don’t even know what to say.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
“It isn’t okay.” He gently pulled her hand away from her mouth. “Did I hurt you? Jesus, what is wrong with me?”
A tear rolled down her cheek. It made him want to cry himself. “I’ll take you back now.”
He put the truck into gear and turned to back it up.
“I don’t want to go back.”
He wasn’t sure he heard her right. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“But—”
“Let’s fish, Jace. Can we, please, just fish?”
He studied her, looking for some sign that might tell him what she was thinking. He felt like an asshole for kissing her the way he had. How could she be so blind to the fact that he was thinking about her, not her sister? He got nothing. She turned her head and stared out the window.
“I’m sorry, Jace.”
“Wait. What? What are you sorry for?”
“Never mind.”
“Bree…you aren’t makin’ a whole lot of sense. Not that I am, either.”
“Which is why I want to fish. I don’t want to talk, Jace. I don’t want to talk about my sister, or that kiss, or…anything. I just want to fish.”
He waited to see if she’d say anything more. She didn’t.
“Okay, let’s fish, then.”
He backed the truck up to the point where he could take the turnoff he was supposed to take before.
“This way?” he asked.
“We’re almost there,” she answered. “Look for a big, red rock and park next to it.”
“It’s a bit of a walk. I didn’t think about that.”
Jace bent down and picked up a small branch. He ran his hand over it. “All set. Got my walking stick right here.”
She led him down the trail, through the trees, to the tributary Red brought her to the first day they’d fished together.
“Wow,” he said when they came out of the woods and he saw the rushing water.