Page 33 of Lavender Lake
The oven timer dinged and I rushed back to the kitchen, but Bowman was already opening the oven door and pulling out the muffin tins with a pair of singed red oven mitts.
He set them on the stove to cool, and then closed the oven door.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded. “I thought I’d have to get the water hose and turn it on the both of you.”
“What the hell wasthat?” His gray eyes glittered like gunmetal. “I come in and find him eye-fucking you in the kitchen.”
“So what?” I snapped. “If he wants to eye-fuck me, he can eye-fuck me.”
A muscle in his jaw clenched. “Do not play games with me, Powell.”
“I’ll play whatever games I want to play with you,Caspian. And for the record, I wasn’t playing any fucking games.”
“You guys have history.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, but said nothing.
“Don’t you?” he pressed.
“Where were you?” I asked instead.
He shook his head. “Answer me.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“So, you’re going to go to dinner andcatch up?”
I grinned, but it was an evil, femme fatale, I’ve-got-you-clocked, kind of smile. “Jealous?”
“I thought it was fairly obvious. And don’t smile at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like if I gave you a knife, you’d gladly carve out my heart and serve it on a platter.”
“Ah, you’re afraid of me. I love this,” I boasted.
His gaze narrowed. “Are. You. Going. To. Dinner?”
“None. Of. Your. Business.”
He stalked toward me and my pulse drummed in the side of my neck. Bowman gripped my upper arms. “You make me crazy.”
“I make you feel alive,” I countered.
His grip tightened and his head bent toward mine . . .
And then the front door opened.
Bowman dropped his hands like he’d touched hot metal.
“Salem?” Hadley called.
“In here,” I croaked out.
