Page 28 of Sizzling Desire

“To walk,” I say simply, gesturing toward the path she’s on. “Mind if I join you?”

Her eyebrows shoot up, surprise flickering in her expression before she masks it with her usual razor-sharp glare. “Seriously? Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

“Nope.” I rock back on my heels, letting my grin widen. “What’s the matter, Gracie? Afraid you might actually enjoy my company?”

“Don’t call me Gracie,” she snaps, but there’s no heat in it. Not really.

I don’t wait for her to agree, falling into step beside her before she can tell me to get lost. The tension between us stretches taut, a live wire thrumming in the cool evening air. She keeps her arms crossed; her chin tilted up like she’s daring me to say something stupid, and let’s be honest, I probably will.

We keep walking, the sounds of the water lapping against the docks and the distant cries of seagulls filling the silence between us. It’s strangely comfortable, this push and pull we’ve got. Like we’re dancing on the edge of something dangerous, and neither of us is willing to step back.

“So,” I say, after a beat of silence. “What’s a girl like you doing out here alone? Looking for trouble?”

She snorts, the sound somehow both elegant and biting. “The only trouble around here is you.”

I grin. “You wound me, Grace. I’m just trying to make polite conversation.”

“Polite?” She throws me a sidelong glance, her lips curving into a smirk that makes my pulse do something stupid. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Guess I’m full of surprises,” I say, letting my voice dip lower, watching as her steps falter for half a second before she catches herself.

She looks away, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “If you’re trying to impress me, Kane, you’re wasting your time.”

“Who says I’m trying to impress you?” I counter, leaning in slightly. “Maybe I just like watching you squirm.”

Her head snaps back toward me, her eyes blazing. “I don’t squirm.”

“Sure you don’t,” I tease, my grin widening as her cheeks flush. “You’re as cool as a cucumber. Always.”

She stops walking, planting her hands on her hips, and I swear I feel the heat of her glare straight down to my bones. “What’s your deal, Kane? Do you get off on annoying me?”

I step closer, invading her space just enough to make her breath hitch. “Maybe.”

Her eyes darken, and for a moment, the air between us shifts, the playful banter giving way to something heavier, something raw and electric. The way she looks at me—like she’s trying to decide whether to kiss me or slap me—sends a jolt of adrenaline straight through me.

I could lie. I could brush it off with some sarcastic remark and keep things light. But something about the way she’s looking at me—defensive, curious, vulnerable—makes me want to give her more.

“Maybe I like irritating you,” I say, my voice softer now, more honest. “Or maybe I just like being around you.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, the world seems to narrow down to just the two of us—the breeze, the sunlight, the space between us humming with tension. She opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, but then she shakes her head, turning away.

“You’re impossible,” she mutters, breaking the stare first and resuming her walk. But she doesn’t tell me to leave, and that’s all I need.

I fall into step beside her again, the silence between us buzzing with unspoken tension. She’s stiff at first, her posture all sharp edges and distance, but gradually, her shoulders begin to relax, her steps less guarded. The silence stretches, charged with something we’re both trying to ignore. My hand brushes against hers as we walk, and she doesn’t pull away. It’s a small thing, barely even noticeable, but it feels like a crack in her armor—a sliver of possibility.

“Alright, Kane,” she says finally, her voice softer but no less challenging. “Why are you really here?”

“Like I said, maybe I just wanted to spend time with you,” I say, my tone casual even as my chest tightens with the truth of it.

She laughs, but it’s not the sharp, mocking sound I expect. It’s softer, almost genuine, and it catches me off guard. “You? Spend time with me? Please. You don’t even like me.”

“Who says I don’t like you?” I shoot back, enjoying the way her steps falter again.

She stops abruptly, turning to face me with an incredulous look. “Oh, come on. You’ve made it your life’s mission to irritate me at every turn.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like you,” I say, stepping closer, watching as her throat works to swallow. “Maybe I just like the way you get all worked up.”

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t back away. “You’re infuriating.”

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