Spitfire in Love (Chasing Red 3)

The guy was a walking contradiction. How the hell was I supposed to figure all this out?

Be strong, girl. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Really, don’t.

My house was a twenty-minute walk from his house. I turned away from him and started walking home. He needed to stay far, far away from me right now.

He was confusing me, and I needed to be on my A game, especially now. This close to the fruition of my plans, there was no room for interruptions. If I wanted to buy another life for my family, at least give them a comfortable life free from my uncle’s greedy claws, there was no room for weakness. My eyes should always be on the prize.

Fantasies were all I could afford right now. And how pitiful was that?

My steps faltered when I felt something warm settle on my shoulders. Something that smelled like leather and man.

“Don’t,” he warned when I started to remove his jacket from my shoulders. “I’ll just put it on you again.”

“That’s really not the way you should talk to me if you want me to do something.” I shrugged off his jacket and threw it at him. I don’t know why I was suddenly angry. But I was. My skin felt flushed, my breathing sped up, and I wanted to hit something.

“You can keep your jacket right where the sun don’t shine, babe, and you can go back to where you came from. I’ve been walking home my whole life without you,” I said, and my voice failed me when it broke.

That weakness in my voice, that chink in my armor that he heard made me angrier.

“I’m not going to start needing you to find my way back home anytime soon. Because you know what? I can take care of myself and mine just fine. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid, and I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me what the hell to do!”

It was unfair to take it out on him. I knew that, just as I knew I was going to beat myself up for it later. But he represented something I couldn’t even let myself want.

He was a great fantasy, one that was being dangled in front of my nose. Life was cruel. Because I was realistic enough to understand that was all he could ever be. He wasn’t meant for someone like me.

He’d be gone soon, and it would be like we’d never met. And the sorry thing was, I’d be left with all the memories.

People always left me memories. As if I were a box where they could just dump whatever crap they no longer wanted.

Just memories. Always memories.

What the hell could I do with those? They wouldn’t put food on the table or pay the electricity or the number of bills piling up in the mailbox.

And if I wanted to forget and get lost in the kisses of a man who was gorgeous as sin and for once be a memory to him, then by God, I had every right to!

Feeling the threat of tears, I threw up my hands in frustration and started marching home. I could feel him following me.

What did he want? Wasn’t freaking out on him enough to turn him away? What was wrong with this guy?

I walked faster, hoping he’d just leave, but it had been a very long day and I was starting to feel it.

The wind whistled loud and mean in the streets, blowing cold and strong. I sucked in my breath, trying to keep my hands to my sides so he wouldn’t know I was freezing my ass off.

I heard him sigh loudly behind me before he started walking faster, until he was walking right in front of me.

Did this guy have a death wish?

The wind blew again, but this time the force of it didn’t blast my face and body. Instead, his body took it.

He walked ahead of me because he wanted to block the wind from hitting me.

Something warm was forming in my chest.

It was just a reaction to his kindness. That was all. Nothing more.

I watched his broad shoulders move as he walked, the fascinating muscle play on the back of his shirt, the dark, curly hair that flirted with his collar.

He had the leather jacket folded and hanging over his left shoulder.