Page 27 of Smoke and Fire
“You should tackle them.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Tackle the topic. Tell them why you want your privacy. They’ll stop.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Maybe.” He looked away, let out a long breath, and then leaned back. “How does this seem to you? Doable?”
I folded my hands in front of me and shelved the fact that he’d closed off a perfectly normal suggestion. Later.
Meanwhile, my curiosity around Bastian only grew. Not only did I want to brush a lock of hair off his forehead that had tumbled onto it, but I wanted to press a kiss to those lips and see if his response would be as ferocious as I thought.
Yeees! Inner Me sang.You wanna kiss the boy!
For once, I didn’t silence her.
“One of my superpowers in life has always been an appropriately placed GIF and the ability to mold and adapt to just about anything,” I said.“I’ve got this.”
He lifted one eyebrow that made him look like an adorably-concerned little boy. “I won’t be here to answer questions.”
“I’m aware.”
He blinked, then nodded. “Okay. I hope I’ve thought of everything.”
A young girl and her mother stepped inside the shop, so I pushed away from the table, grateful for another moment to think. The hint of a smile on his face contributed an obvious redeeming factor to his hard-to-crack exterior, and now I only wanted more. Was my desire to help born from a hope to satisfy answers . . . or from something else? My fascination couldn’t be stopped.
When I returned, a different screen popped up on the computer. It looked like an empty document. He saved it, then navigated away.
“Keep track of your hours and I’ll pay you when I get back, if that works for you.”
“Sure.”
He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Here’s my cell, and I wrote down the access password to the computer beneath it. Text me if you need anything. I probably won’t get reception, but if I do, then I’ll try to check before I go to bed at night.”
“Sure.”
“It could be two weeks before you hear from me again.”
I shrugged. “No worries.”
He hesitated, then pushed the paper and computer to me. He set the backpack he’d been carting around on the table next to it. “You can keep this to work from, since all the passwords are in there.”
“Thanks.”
I reached for the bag, my fingers just brushing the tops of his. He pulled quickly away, gaze diverted, and acted like it hadn’t happened.
Unbeknownst to him, my blood sang. I closed the laptop and tucked it safely inside the bag. I’d conquer the emails later. For now, I wanted to enjoy the low buzz that the warmth of his skin sent through me. The amusement of his reticence sent a smile to my face.
Really, when it came right down to it, this guy was nothing but a shy kid trapped in a man’s body. Adorable.
“Is it hard?” I asked, studying the sculpted angles of his face. He glanced up, brow furrowed.
“What?”
I held up the bag. “Giving your computer to someone else? As an author, seems like it would be anxiety-inducing or something. It’s sort of your lifeline, right?”
He did smile this time, a quick flash so subtle it shocked me. I longed for more of the way it cut quick hollows across his cheeks and illuminated his entire face.
“Nah. I’m used to being away from it for weeks on end in the summer. I spend all winter in front of the screen, so it’s a nice break. Besides, I’m always writing my ideas down when I have them out there.”
