Page 111 of Out on a Limb
“Thank God.” Collette grabbed the fronts and yanked hard enough to separate the remaining buttons from the fabric. “You look ridiculous in it.”
“Grant wears shirts like this all the time.” I tried not to sound chafed.
“You’re not Grant.” Her hands went straight to my newly-bared skin, all her attention focused on where she touched me.
But all my attention was on what she said. I caught her wrists.
“Ugh.” Collette’s head tipped back. “What now?”
“I will never be like Grant, Pickles.”
Her brows jumped up. “Iknow.” She wiggled her hands, working them back and forth as she tried to get free. “Grant is fancy and you’re,” her eyes dipped down my body as her lower lip caught in her teeth, “rugged.”
“But—”
“Damn it, Andrew.” Collette quickly yanked both hands down, effectively breaking the hold I had on her. “I know who you are. That’s why I like you.” She pointed one finger right at my face. “So you can either get over yourself or I’m going home.”
She made it sound so simple. Much simpler than it really was. “But—”
I didn’t even have the whole word out when she spun away, ready to make good on her threat.
My reaction wasn’t thought out. I didn’t mean to grab her hand.
I didn’t plan to pull her against me.
To kiss her.
To fist my hand in her hair as I kept her close.
Kept her from leaving me.
She was everything I craved. All emotion. Open and honest.
Everything I struggled to understand.
But I saw her clearly. Always had.
Even when I refused to admit it.
Her soft body pressed tight to me, teasing me with all I could have.
All that could be mine.
Because that is how it would have to be.
It was the only way this could work.
She had to be mine.
I tried to pull back, to explain what I needed from her, what I had to have, but Collette moved with me, her weight shifting as she held onto my neck. It was just enough to throw me off, send me tipping back.
I managed to catch our fall with one arm, but we still hit the ground, a pile of black lace tangling us together as we rolled across the blanket Michael sent.
Collette stared up at me, breathing heavy, a wide smile on her face. “We should do this more often.”
“Fight?”
“We’re not fighting.” Her hands shoved at the edges of my ruined shirt. “We’re learning how to communicate.”
