Page 13 of Chasing the Flame
My hand lingers a little longer than it should against hers, our eyes locked on one another. It’s like a battle of wills to determine who will look away first. In the end, I move away, jerking my hand back as if she’d burned me. She tugs at her T-shirt, pulling it down. The dusty blue complements her hair perfectly, and she quickly steps away from me, the light in her eyes dimming by a fraction as she turns back toward the tray.
Fuck, why do I feel like an ass?
Taking a sip of the lemonade, I avert my gaze. I’m warring with myself; one second, I want to keep my walls up. Next, I contemplate taking Averie into my arms, see what it would feel like to taste her on my lips. Any minute now, this careful wall I’ve built will crack. I just know it. I sigh, then chug the lemonade.
This is so fucking wrong.
I sure as fuck shouldn’t be thinking about the way her ass looks in those jeans, and I shouldn’t be thinking about those soulful eyes that call to the void within me.
Nope. I shouldn’t, but goddamn if I can’t focus on anything else.
After giving a gruff thanks, I excuse myself, taking off toward the sounds of the water. I need to put as much distance between us as I can.
Nothing good will come of this path, nothing at all. She’s fucking married, and I’m pining over her like some love-sick teenager. Which doesn’t make a lick of sense. I don’t even know her… not really.
As the water ripples across the sand, I breathe in the lake’s earthy, albeit slightly musty smell, losing myself to my thoughts. Today, even the water isn’t enough to quell them.
After a fleeting moment of silence, I turn, leaving my thoughts of the beautiful redhead behind to drown in the watery depths where they belong.
Two weeks have passed since Jettson’s arrival into our lives. Fourteen days of absolute fucking torture. I can’t think. I can’t sleep. I certainly can’t fucking concentrate on anything but the thought of Jettson.
Never mind the fact that I’m still hearing sounds at night. Whispers that seem to haunt my sleep and make me question my sanity and reality during the day.
Even that is paling in comparison to the way Jettson consumes me.
I’m not even sure why I’m so enthralled by him. I hardly know the man. Still…
There’s something about his quiet, guarded demeanor that’s pulling me in.
What’s worse is that I’m relatively certain Luke is getting tired of my constant daydreaming. That is a surefire sign of trouble on the horizon. One that spells absolute disaster for me in so many different ways. Ways I’m long accustomed to by now.
This morning, I woke up early like I always do. I took my morning walk and listened to my favorite podcast, loving all the new spooky supernatural things that Ashley had to share. Forthe first time in several days, I was able to quiet my mind and forget about the strange things happening in the house and a certain carpenter.
When I returned home, Luke was up and sitting at the table like a petulant child, asking about breakfast. He couldn’t have been bothered to pour a bowl of cereal for fucks sake. No, he all but demanded I fix his favorite ham and cheese omelet. As I’m working on the omelet, he comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He squeezes my stomach and nuzzles into my neck before whispering, “I’m so happy you’re taking your weight-loss goal seriously.”
The words are like a slap, and my face instantly drops. Why wouldn’t he go there? He’s been adding fuel to the fire left and right lately. It's like he's pushing every boundary and testing to see how much farther he can take it.Insufferable.
“Of course, dear. I’m beginning to enjoy the walks… and the morning quiet, too,” I say after a pause, voice lilting with practiced sweetness as I adjust my stance to flip the omelet, its surface already kissed with golden brown.
Luke releases me, seemingly satisfied, and sits at the kitchen table. After finishing the omelet, I take the meal to him and place it before him. “Can I get you anything else?” I ask, only to realize he doesn’t have something to drink.
“A drink would be nice, or is that notobvious?”
Cringing, I quickly go to the fridge, grabbing the jug of orange juice on the top shelf. The damn glasses are still high in the cabinet, even though I asked Luke to move them down to the middle shelf yesterday. I turn, thinking of asking for his help, only to see him staring at me with contempt blazing in his eyes. “Can you seriously not reach that? Jesus Christ, Averie.”
He shoves me out of the way, knocking me into the kitchen counter. A hiss escapes my lips before the air leaves my lungs in awhoosh. My short stature proves to be even more problematic—back connecting with the edge of the counter, sending a surge of panic rushing through my body.Curse him!
Luke doesn’t bother to glance in my direction. He leaves me to work through the panic, a tidal wave of fear clawing its way up my throat. My body shakes violently, my arms clasped around my middle tightly as I fight the feelings raging inside me. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, my lungs expand, and I suck in a sharp breath.
I suck in another, then another, and before I know it, the fog is lifting from my brain. “Oh, I almost forgot. Jettson will be here again today. I have to run to the power plant and make a few calls at the office. Averie, keep your distance. I don’t know his crew, and I don’t want anything to happen to you, precious.”
His words slice through the air, startling me from my overwhelming thoughts.Precious? After the way he just acted, I don’t exactlyfeelprecious. I straighten myself to my full height, refusing to let him see how his actions affect me any longer.
“Of course, I’ll probably set up the office today. I need to get some writing done anyway before I send this section off to the editor,” I say with a tight smile.
He nods, rising from the table. “I’ll see you tonight. Dinner will be at six, yes?”
I smile, nodding enthusiastically. He crosses the room and plants a kiss on my cheek. As he crosses the kitchen again, he stops by the wide arch, turning his head back to me. My heart drops to my stomach, and I know whatever is about to come out of his mouth will tick me off.
