Page 18 of Worth the Want
I look up at the sky, attempting to get a hold of myself—of my imagination. When I look back down, she slowly opens her eyes. At the sight of me, she lets out a blood-curdling scream that has me rearing back and off balance. Before I can regain it, she kicks her toned legs out, successfully making contact with my gut and knocking me off the end of the dock—into the freezing lake below.
I break the surface after being completely submerged and reach up to grip the end of the dock, gaze locking with Indiana’s. At the sight of her big, brown eyes, a memory floods my brain.A teasing taunt sparks in them as she looks me up and down.There’s no mistaking it now.
Espresso-brown eyes that have haunted my dreams for years stare back at me.
“Oh fuck,” she whimpers from above me. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. You scared me! I must have fallen asleep, and then you were just standing there—over me—like some psycho—” she rambles as I pull half my body up onto the dock, out of the water. She’s kneeling right in front of me. I look at her face to—I don’t know, scold her? Say something mean? But looking up at her now, the sun lighting her from behind like she has a fucking halo, sitting back on her knees, her top teeth worrying her lip, the only words that come to mind range from sticky sweet to undeniably filthy.
“Hi, Knox.” She breathes. That soft, breathy voice saying my name is—more than it should be. I haul myself onto the dock fully, catching my breath and standing. “I’m so sorry,” she says again.
I don’t say anything back, my brain not wanting to register how charming she looks. How to reconcile the idea I’ve had of her over the years with her sitting in front of me right now. How incredibly tempting her pink, pouty lips are, so instead, I just walk by her and off the dock, straight to my porch, where I strip off my shirt and boots.
“Hey, I said I was sorry. I know this is an inconvenience, but you could at least acknowledge my apology—acknowledgeme,” a soft voice calls, trailing behind me.
I groan. I assumed that my leaving without speaking wouldtip her off to the fact that I don’t feel like speaking right now—or anytime soon. I need to get a handle on the unfamiliar feelings this woman stirs up in me.
“If you’re expecting me to say it’s okay, then you should really manage your expectations,” I snap.Shit. That’s not—I don’t—fuck, she’s got me out of sorts.
“Excuse me?” she asks, sounding indignant.
I turn to her then. Her eyes widen, sweeping down my face to my chest and finally stopping when they get to my stomach. I’m annoyed at how having her eyes on me puts fire in my veins, making it hard to form coherent thoughts, and at the same time, making me want to say more than I should. Her mouth opens, then shuts. She blinks before raising her eyes back up to my face, where they flare with heat, seeing the smirk on it. “Get a good look?” I ask.
“Oh my god. Stop it. N-no. That’s not what I—” she stutters out. She places her hands on her hips, blowing air out of her nose, eyes shut. “You scared me back there. Iamsorry I pushed, er, well,kickedyou off the dock, but I’m not sure how you expected me to respond to a man standing over me. How longhadyou been standing there?” I turn her words over, and when looking at it from that point of view, see how waking up to someone—a stranger—might have been jarring. I also have to admit that her kick had a lot more power behind it than I expected out of her tiny frame.
“I didn’t mean to startle you—onmydock, mind you. I’m not used to anyone being out there. You shouldn’t have been—and definitely not asleep.” That sounded nothing like an apology—which is what I had intended when I started talking.
She tenses, then awkwardly cocks her hip to the side,showcasing the toned muscles of her thighs before crossing her arms over her chest. Her shirt rides up with the action, giving me a peek of more of her skin, driving me crazy thinking about what her soft skin might feel like under my fingers.
“Why? Are there bears out here or something?” she asks quietly. Curiously. I want to laugh.This woman.
“No, Indiana.” I have to force my thoughts away from the way her name feels on my tongue. The taste of it. “It’s not bears I’m worried about,” I tell her. The breeze coming off the surrounding mountains chills my skin that’s been heated by her gaze, and with it, my sense returns. “You just shouldn’t have been out there. It’s not your dock.”
Her beautiful, brown eyes go wide at my harsh tone.Shit. I can’t seem to pick a lane.She swallows, face tinged pink.Fuck, I’m an asshole.“I won’t go out there again,” she tells me before all but fleeing back down the road. I stand on the porch a few moments longer, my jeans dripping onto the wood.
Well, you got exactly what you wanted, Knox. So why do you feel like shit over it?
Possibly because she’s done nothing to provoke me other than exist. I scratch the back of my neck.Damn it.As much as I hate to admit it, I think her being here is starting to bring out some long-buried feelings. Feelings I’m not sure I can—or want to—explore anymore.
I also don’t like admitting I’m wrong because nine and a half times out of ten, I’m not. But she’s been here one day, and I already have to say I’m sorry?
Looking over at the guesthouse, I see she’s getting in her car, muttering to herself. I contemplate waving her down when she comes by. Say my piece and move on—only when shedrives by, she doesn’t even glance at me. Her head is firmly facing forward, ignoring me.Guess I won’t be apologizing tonight after all.I head inside, not bothering to close the door behind me. Kicking off my wet jeans and underwear, I throw them in the wash.
Walking through the house naked isn’t something I make a habit of, seeing as I have Hazel. But she’s with my parents, there aren’t any other houses around for miles, and I just watched the only person who would have been here drive away. So while I’m walking toward the hall bathroom, I tell myself I must be imagining the feeling of eyes on me.
Still unable to shake the feeling, I turn to look back through the house, and standing in my doorway is none other than my five-foot-nothing tenant, looking almost comically scandalized.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. I’m s-so sorry,” she says as she stares at my body. Specifically, my lower half. I’m frozen, making no move to cover up. Having her eyes on me does something to me. Something I’m not sure how to name. It leaves me wanting. What, I’m not sure. Slapping a hand over her eyes, she spins around to face the lake. “I d-didn’t mean—how am I managing to make a worse impression every time I see you today?” she whines.
Grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, I cover myself. “Was there something you needed, Indiana?” I ask.
“Indie. Y-you can call me Indie,” she stutters.
“Yeah, now that we’ve gotten to know each other so well, it only seems right,” I mutter under my breath.
“I was just going to ask you about something in the house, but I-er-I will talk to you about it another time—maybe when you’re less naked,” she jokes.
I don’t know where it comes from, but the overwhelming urge to tease her, even though I know she’s already embarrassed, bubbles up inside me. “Justlessnaked? Not completely clothed?” I’m rewarded with her surprised laugh.
“So he does have a sense of humor,” she muses.
