Page 34 of Casita Casanova
And then I remember I’m mad at him. “What the hell was that?”
Cas opens his pale green eyes and they look almost white in the direct line of the sun when he lifts his head off the wall to look at me. He’s so relaxed and nonchalant, just leaning back against the brewery without a care in the world.
And looking damn fine doing it, too, which only works to fuel my annoyance.
“What waswhat, Maryn?” He pushes off the wall and strides toward me, leaving just a foot between us when he stops and looks down into my eyes in that way that makes me want to slap him or sleep with him.
“That whole display at the end of the bar,” I say as I take out my anger on the button for the crosswalk. “Did you really just convince that poor little girl to give you a job?”
“It was that or my phone number, and I left my phone in the cab.” Clearly amused, Cas pulls my new Fast Lane Brewing shirt from my arms and holds it up. “Did you really just convince that poor littleboyto give you a job?”
I huff, side-eying him. “He offered me a job yesterday, thank you very much.”
“Congratulations.”
“And he’s not little.”
“Neither is she.”
I scoff. “Right. She could be my child.”
“She couldn’t be mine.”
Biting my tongue because he’s right, I start across the street. I don’t know why I’m so irritated by this. There’s just something about him. That he should so easily just walk into the brewery, flash that dangerous smile, and walk out with a job triggers something inside me.
I want to scream at him.
Butwhy?
I’m acting irrationally.
I basically had the same experience, so… what’s the problem?
“Are you…?”
“What?” I snap over my shoulder.
He’s quiet for a second, then asks, “What part about that bothered you?”
When I reach the other curb, I turn to face him. “What?”
“Which part of me getting the job bothered you?” He steps too close to me again, assaulting me with his scent and the intensity of his pale green eyes. “Are you jealous?”
My mouth drops open. He has some nerve! I close my mouth when his gaze falls to it, then shake my head and resume my walk home.
Of course, I’m not jealous!
And yet, something settles into my gut that feels a lot like—
“Maryn.”
I don’t want to acknowledge him for fear of what I might say.
Iamjealous. Butwhy?
I don’t evenknowhim. Why did the sight of him turning that megawatt smile onto someone else make me feel like I’d been cast aside?
The realization punches me in the gut and my steps almost falter. Tears spring into my eyes. I don’t evenknowCas.
