One blond brow arched.
Jaye felt her face turn a dark, crimson red. “Please don’t ask if you’re getting me wet.”
“That’s not what I’m wondering.”
She couldn’t quite believe it. The men she’d dated—all three of them—asked about the state of wetness between her legs. “I’m hesitant to discover what you’d rather ask.”
“I’m not sure I want to hear the answer, but I’ll ask anyway.” He took one of her hands in his. “Are you shaking because you’re cold…or scared?”
She blinked, temporarily mute.
“If you’re cold, I’ll bump up the heat and build a fire.” Mitch placed her hand on his arm. “If you’re scared, don’t let go.”
Curling her fingers around the thick curve of his biceps, she remembered the night they met. He’d strode toward her with the self-assurance of a man who possessed enough brawn to walk with confidence among the shifting shadows of the woods. “Does anything scare you?”
“Yeah. It kills me when you pull away.” He looked into her eyes. “I won’t hurt you, Jaye. I want your trust more than anything else. You know that, right?”
That was the second time in twenty-four hours he voiced a desire to earn her trust. He possessed extraordinary emotional depth, evidenced by his singular ability to sense her deepest fears.
She brushed her lips against his in a kiss as soft as snowfall. “I’m shaking because I like you. A lot.”
“I like you, too.” With his thumb, he tilted up her chin. “Why did you walk away during our argument?”
“Things were getting personal. I didn’t want to say something I’d regret later.”
The corners of his eyes narrowed. “Like calling me a pigheaded brute?”
“Oh, no.” She gasped and cupped his face in apology. “You heard me.”
“Good thing I did. Made me think twice about knocking down your door like a pigheaded brute.”
She brushed her fingertips down his neck. “Did I hurt your feelings?”
One shoulder lifted. “Maybe.”
“I’m sorry.” Scooting to the edge of the counter, she laced her arms around him. “In my defense, you were acting a bit obstinate.”
“Mmm.” The bridge of his nose nuzzled her cheek.
“I’m not ready to talk about some things, no matter how much you press.” She nibbled the hard edge of his jaw.
“If you keep kissing me, I won’t keep up my end of the conversation.”
A secret thrill skittered down her back at the notion she could render this big glassblower speechless. She looped her leg around his hips to draw his lower half against hers. The hard ridge of his erection throbbed against the crotch of her jeans. “Should I stop?”
“Hell, no.”
Jaye chased the red flush moving up his neck with her mouth, half kissing, half licking until she got to his ear. “Want to talk about my contract now?”
“What contract?”
She watched the muscles along his jaw tighten and couldn’t believe there was a time she thought his short hair made him look forbidding. Without the baseball cap he often wore, she could see every inch of his magnificent face as desire and control flickered across his expression. If anyone ever thought raw masculinity couldn’t look beautiful, they’d never seen Mitch like he was now.
Parting her mouth, she touched the tip of her tongue to the fullness of his bottom lip, kissing the place where his gruff five-o’clock shadow rimmed the silk of his mouth.
He locked his arms around her hips. “I’m taking you someplace where we can lie down. Hold on.”
With a happy yelp, she tightened her arms and legs around him. “Are we going to Paris? Rome?”
“Too far.” He carried her into the living room and put her on the couch. “Lie down, pixie. I’m joining you as soon as I take off my boots.”
Stretching out on the soft cushions, she tucked a pillow under her cheek. “This couch is too comfortable. I’m tempted to steal it.”
“I’m tempted to steal you.” He lay beside her and initiated a deep kiss. A slow, sexy grin crossed his mouth. “Let’s wash dishes every night.”
“Your dishwasher will appreciate the vacation.” She hitched her knee up over his hip to knit her legs with his. “I’m sorry I broke the handle.”
“Only a matter of time before it fell apart. The whole kitchen needs to be redone.” He curled his hand around the curve of her butt. “One of these days, I’ll tear down the ugly wood paneling and make everything right.”
Sadness fluttered in her chest at the thought she wouldn’t be around to see the renovation. “As far as I’m concerned, I like your kitchen just the way it is—homey and comfortable.”
Taking advantage of his stillness, she trickled her fingertips along the bristle of his emerging whiskers.
A faint smile touched his mouth and he closed his eyes.
He looked like he enjoyed the attention, so she worked her way up to his forehead, smoothing away the residual line of tension between his bronze eyebrows. With gentle fingertips, she touched the small mole where the brim of his baseball hat normally rested. Her exploration moved to his short blond hair. The strands were no longer than a half-inch, shaved close to his skin near his ears. His hair was surprisingly soft, like crushed velvet stretched over the bones beneath his scalp.
A ribbon of gooseflesh rose down his thick neck. He let out a deep sigh, sliding his hand under her T-shirt to caress the smooth curve of her back. “How many overprotective brothers do I need to worry about? Give me specifics, so I know what I’m up against if they discover how much I like touching you.”
“I wish I had brothers, but there’s just me.”
He leaned back a few inches and peered into her face. “You’re an only child, like me?”
“Yep.”
“Yet something else we have in common, along with football and family businesses. Not to mention the fact you’re as ticklish as I am.”
“How do you know?”
He tickled her ribs and she squealed, proving his point. Offering an apologetic smile, he stopped. “When I found
