Page 43 of Knot So Sweet
She moves around the prep table, coming into my space. Close enough that her scent surrounds me completely. "You're a terrible liar."
"Yeah, well. You're terrible at taking hints."
"What hints? You've been grunting at me for weeks. That's not communication, that's cave man behavior."
"Maybe you're scared."
I stare at her. "Of what?" I ask, even though I know the answer.
"This." She gestures between us. "Whatever this is. The reason you kissed me weeks ago and then pretended it never happened."
My jaw clenches. "That was a mistake."
"Was it?"
"Yes."
"Liar." She takes another step closer. Now we're barely a foot apart. I can see the pulse jumping in her throat, smell the way her scent's shifting with nervousness and something else. Something warm and wanting.
"Violet," I warn.
"What are you afraid of, Garrick?"
Everything. Wanting her. Losing her. The way she makes me feel like maybe being alone isn't the safest option after all.
"You're leaving," I say instead. "Your car's fixed. You've got work lined up. There's no reason for you to stay."
"Maybe I want to stay."
The words hang in the air between us. My heart's pounding so hard I'm sure she can hear it.
"You don't mean that."
She's close enough now that I could reach out and touch her. Pull her against me. "I'm tired of everyone telling me what I should want, where I should go, who I should be. For once I'm making my own choice. And I choose here. This town. This work."
She doesn't say "you" but I hear it anyway. Feel it in the way her scent blooms with hope and desire and fear all mixed together.
"This is a bad idea," I manage.
“Probably." She shrugs, avoiding eye contact.
"You just escaped an abusive relationship. You're vulnerable. This is too soon."
"Maybe. I'm finally strong enough to know what I want." Her hand comes up, resting on my chest. Right over my heart. "And I want you."
Something in me snaps.
I reach for her, pulling her against me. She fits perfectly, all soft curves and sweet scent. My hand slides into her hair, tilting her face up to mine.
"Tell me to stop," I growl.
"No."
Then I'm kissing her. Not gentle. Not careful. Hungry and desperate and months of wanting compressed into this moment.
She kisses me back just as fiercely, her hands fisting in my shirt. Her mouth opens under mine and the taste of her is better than I remembered. Sweet and perfect and mine.
I walk her backward until she hits the prep table, my hands sliding down to her waist. Lift her up onto the surface without breaking the kiss. She wraps her legs around me, pulling me closer.
