Page 11 of Burly and Obsessed

Tomorrow will be different. No more dancing around what I want. No more letting Jax’s protectiveness dictate my choices. No more hiding behind jokes and deflection.

It’s time to man up.

CHAPTER 5

ANDREA

The cab of Ace’s truck feels impossibly small as I hesitate at the passenger door, my pulse already quickening

“Second thoughts, Andrea?” His voice breaks through my hesitation, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

I shake my head, then turn to Ace. His eyes meet mine, lingering a beat too long before I look away, focusing on adjusting the air vent. The morning light catches the angles of his jaw, the stubble he hasn’t bothered to shave. My traitorous body responds with a flush of heat I fight to ignore.

“We’ve got a good drive ahead of us.” He starts the engine. “You bring road trip snacks, or am I supposed to survive on your sparkling conversation?”

“My conversationissparkling,” I say, keeping my tone light. “But there are granola bars in my bag if you get desperate. I figured we’d get something on the way.”

I’m done waiting after today if nothing changes. Three years of this dance. Three years of watching him back down whenever Jax appeared, like at Leesa’s birthday party last year. Ace and I were having fun and flirting, then Jax walked over, and Ace stepped away so quickly that I felt cold in his absence.

The memory hardens my resolve as we pull onto the main road. We round a sharp curve, and his arm shoots out instinctively to brace me, his palm warm against my shoulder. The touch sends electricity straight to my core, and neither of us breathes for a moment. He withdraws slowly, his fingers dragging slightly against my sleeve.

“Sorry,” he says, but his eyes have a fire in them that suggests he isn’t sorry for touching me.

“It’s okay,” I murmur, not trusting my voice.

The road curves again, and Ace focuses on navigating the switchback. I study his profile—the strong line of his nose, the set of his jaw, the way his dark hair curls slightly at his neck where it needs a trim. He’s beautiful in a rugged, masculine way that makes my knees go weak.

But it’s never been just physical. I’ve known plenty of attractive men. What keeps me circling back to Ace is the depth beneath the surface—the loyalty he shows Jax and his men, the gentleness I’ve seen when he thinks no one’s watching, and the intelligence that flashes through his jokes.

He downshifts for another curve, the play of muscle in his forearm making my mind wander to dangerous territory—imagining those arms braced above me, his hips pressing me into sheets, his mouth hot against my skin.

I shift in my seat, crossing my legs tightly. But no matter what I do, the flame of my desire burns hotter and hotter, making my core throb and ache.

“You okay over there?” His voice sounds rougher than usual.

“Fine,” I say quickly.

* * *

The greenhouse doorchimes as we enter. A wall of fragrance hits me instantly—roses, lilies, hyacinth—their mingled scents rich and intoxicating. Sunlight streams through the glass panels, turning the space into a kaleidoscope of colors and shadows.

“Wow. This is so gorgeous.”

“Andrea and Ace?” A woman in a green apron approaches. “You’re here for the Jackson wedding flowers?”

“That’s us,” I confirm, unable to keep my eyes from traveling across the rows of blooms.

“Everything’s ready in the back. Feel free to look around while I finish the paperwork, then you can pull up out back and we’ll help you load the flowers up.”

As she disappears behind a beaded curtain, I drift toward a display of white lilies. Their trumpet-shaped blooms unfurl with a delicate grace.

“I’ve never seen you like this before.” Ace’s voice comes from behind me.

I turn to find him watching me, his expression unreadable. “Like what?”

“Soft.” He steps closer. “At the hardware store, you’re all business. Efficient.”

Heat crawls up my neck. “I like flowers.”

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