Page 3 of One Small Spark
“But it’sromance.”
That word seems wrong spoken out loud to him. I don’t like having it in the air between us. It’s a giant, invisible mosquito I want to swat away.
He purses his lips. “Krause.” He drags the word out slowly, teasing me with my own name. “Judging me for reading romance? That’s not very enlightened of you.”
I take a step closer to him. My traitor gaze skims up his open flannel shirt and the tight, black T-shirt underneath. Unhelpful. As is the flush of warmth creeping up my neck. But stepping out of his space would count as a win for him. Better to stand my ground.
“Just tell me what you’re doing here,” I seethe.
He inhales so slowly, I almost think he’s breathing in my orange and lavender perfume. Which would be crazy. Obviously. This is Callahan. He’s probably trying to suck all the air out of the room before I have a chance to breathe it.
Then, I have an out-of-body experience. His gaze dips from my eyes to my mouth. He tilts his head a fraction of an inch closer. The heat on my neck becomes an inferno. Is he—? He wouldn’t. I suck in a breath, frozen in place.
He snaps his gaze back up to mine.
“Maybe I need more romance in my life.”
I snort. Mostly at myself. One tiny movement, and I’m dreaming up forbidden kiss scenarios? I blame the Highlander romance novel I binge-read over the last two days.
Along with the dozen other romances I read this month. I really need to switch to thrillers.
“That wouldn’t be hard to achieve,” I finally say.
He quirks his eyebrows at me. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
I make a sound of disgust. Naturally, he would take what I say the opposite of how I mean it.
“Are you two ready?” Ada calls from the kitchen. “Better get your food before there’s nothing left to eat.”
“That won’t happen.” He whispers as if we’re sharing secrets back here. Which I suppose we are. “They always send me home with leftovers.”
“Is that why you come here? For the free food?”
His lips purse beneath his trim, dark beard. “You’ve figured out my scam, Krause. Brilliant sleuthing. Are we done in the hallway or did you want to hold my hand some more?”
My mouth falls open, but I’m pretty sure anything I want to say would get me kicked out of Ada’s house. I storm past him, ignoring the hand he’s holding out to me and knocking myshoulder against his in the process. The move always looks so perfectly dismissive in the movies, but in real life, it’s more like an unintended full-body caress.
Sick burn, Wren.
We’re the last to fill our plates. I keep my focus trained on the food, willing my brain to erase the last five minutes of sensory input. I can still salvage this, Callahan notwithstanding. Just because he somehow managed to score an invite to their book club first doesn’t mean I can’t prove myself to be a valuable part of the group. What would he even have to say about romance books?
I kind of hate how much I want to know.
Outside, I’m in for another unpleasant surprise—the ladies have taken up all available seating except for a snug-looking wicker loveseat. They’ve thoughtfully draped a blanket over one cushion, as if inviting Callahan and me to share it.
Ha. Never going to happen.
He sits, and I can’t help but notice his jeans-clad thigh doesn’t quite stay on his half of the loveseat. I hover behind him, staring at the sliver of leg that’s clearly crossed a boundary.
“Come sit down, Wren,” Isabel says amid the low chatter. “Shepherd won’t bite.”
He looks up at me. Something in his brown eyes promises that yes, he absolutely will bite if given the opportunity.
But there’s nothing I hate more than backing down from one of his challenges, spoken or not. I round the loveseat and sit next to him. I lift my eyebrows at him, lobbing back his little dare. I will sit here and eat this delicious food and talk about a Highlander jaded to love, all with our thighs and arms pressed together on this too-small loveseat, possibly while sharing a blanket.
It doesn’t bother me at all.
TWO
