Page 55 of Where You're Planted

“That,” she said, “that sound.”

Fuck. Five minutes ago he’d been splitting apart, and she’d held him together. But it was starting over again, the buildup of pressure, the threat of combustion. He kissed her hard, relishing towering over her, surrounding her. She gasped and held on, totally at his mercy. Except that gasp was like wind to a brush fire, andhewas absolutely the one athermercy, had been since she’d followed him in here.

He slipped one hand free and palmed from her knee up her smooth, strong thigh, pushing her dress up as he went. “What are you doing to me?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know as he reached the crease of her hip.

“What amIdoing?” She squirmed into his touch, impatient, digging her heels harder into the backs of his knees and nearly buckling them.

“Want me to stop?” he countered, swiping one fingertip across the sensitive skin just below the lower hem of her underwear.

She shuddered. “No.”

“Good, because I don’t know if I can.”

Just as his fingers ventured over that line, across the smooth cotton to her center, thunder struck, loud and sudden, and Tansy shot off the table, colliding into his chest. Hestepped back, hands knocked loose from her. She covered her mouth, surprise fully dispelling the lust-drunk look that had just been there.

“Just thunder,” he assured her, breathless.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, head shaking now. She looked spooked, but he sensed it wasn’t from the noise.

“What?” he asked. “Was that too much?”

“No, not that. We are in aglassbuilding, Jack. At a family festival. We’re atwork.” She tried to sidestep him, smoothing down her clothes, but he caught her arm and made her meet his eyes.

“Fine. Yeah. But other than that…You’re okay?”

Color washed over her cheeks. “I’m fine. I’m just— God, I turned your crisis into—” She rolled her hand over at the wrist a few times, no words coming.

“You think you took advantage of me?” He couldn’t help the twitch of a grin.

“Don’t give me that crinkly smile right now,” she snapped. “You were in the middle of a—”

“Nota panic attack,” he cut in. It was embarrassing that she’d seen him like that. But he also didn’t wanthisspinning out then to makeherspin out now. “I was handling it.”

“I lured you into a sense of—”

“A sense of what?”

She stammered and finally spit out, “Misplaced arousal.”

He laughed becausearousalwas so clinical and didn’t come anywhere close to describing the genuine heat still thrumming in his veins. “Well, hell, Tansy, you’ve been luring me intosomethingfor fucking weeks. It wasn’t the damn box breathing.”

“What are you talking about I’veluredyou for weeks?”

“With your combative little attitude and the flimsy tieson those skirts. I mean, do you own anything with a zipper, or is it all just fabric haphazardly draped around you? That yoga tank top? This?” He gestured accusingly toward where today’s dress tied around the back of her neck, exposing her shoulders and the upper half of her back. “You have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to pull those ties and watch you unravel? My God, Tansy.”

Her mouth fell open. Her cheeks were so pink now, she looked sunburned. He expected her to deny any awareness or intention of driving him crazy with her clothes, but instead, she straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and said, “Well, I’m not the one who traipses through the woods with my shirt off.”

The memory of that day when she’d found him in the back property repairing that oak branch brought with it a swell of satisfaction. He raised an eyebrow. “Liked what you saw?”

She shook her head but didn’t say no. She was still worried about the glass walls, people seeing them in here. But between the downpour outside and the filmy, fogged-up windows, he was certain they were obscured.

“Are you upset that I kissed you?” he asked carefully. He didn’t want her to have regrets, but he’d rather know if she did.

“I’m not upset. I’membarrassed. I was trying to help, not confuse you.”

Jack groaned, dragging a hand down his mouth and beard. “I wasn’t confused, Tansy. I knew what I was doing. But I’m gonna feel like a real jackass if you didn’t want it, too. Ifthat”—he gestured at the table—“was pity.”

For a beat, she looked genuinely offended, and hell, he loved that angry scrunch of her nose and the narrow squint of her eyes. “Is that typically how people who pity you kiss you?”

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