Jaye laughed at his Transylvanian accent and pushed him away. “Didn’t the hoagie fill you up, Dracula?”
Big hands reached for her. His upper lip curled, exposing white teeth. “I still want dessert.”
“Forget the vampire cape. I’m getting you the cheerleading costume.” She climbed into the truck and shut the door. Her neck tingled where Mitch’s teeth scraped her tender skin in his joking attempt to bite her. Smiling, she looked out the window at a nearby lamp illuminating the parking lot. The snow danced in the light like so many pieces of confetti. She might have well been sitting at the edge of a parade in honor of Mitchell Blake. Staying mad at him was impossible when he acted like a Transylvanian goofball.
Her cell phone chirped. She extracted the phone from her purse.
The screen glowed with a text from David. “Remember the first time we used my hot tub? I do…so sexy.”
She glared at the message and hit delete.
Mitch settled behind the steering wheel and shoved the key into the ignition. A quick glance her way stilled his movements. “What’s wrong?”
“David sent me a text.” She turned off the phone with a decisive press of her forefinger, tired of her ex’s attempts to draw her into conversation.
“Block his calls.”
“I can’t.” A tentacle of hopelessness tightened around her chest. She rubbed her watchband, but the habit didn’t soothe the hurt. “David cheated because I wasn’t enough for him. Part of me can’t move on until I know why.”
A pucker formed between Mitch’s eyebrows. He stared for a moment and shifted his gaze to the dashboard. The muscles tightened along his blunt jaw.
Jaye recognized the look. He reacted the same way on Halloween night after their argument—clamping his molars together in bitter self-reflection. She had a feeling he understood her predicament. After all, his fiancé had cheated on him. Weren’t there times when Mitch wondered why everything had collapsed?
“Your ex is trying to weasel his way back into your life, Jaye.”
“I know.”
He turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life beneath the dented hood. “Around here, men don’t text women to get into their good graces. I can think of a thousand things I’d do to earn the privilege of sharing a woman’s bed.”
Heat burst inside her, incinerating her misery in a bright white-hot flame. She gripped her hands together so she wouldn’t grip him. “I’m intrigued. How do you get into a woman’s bed?”
A faint dimple appeared beside the corner of his mouth. He reached across the cab and curled his big hand over her knee. “When I find a woman I want, I buy her a coat.”
Chapter Seventeen
Mitch tossed another piece of wood into the fireplace, but the ritual of building a fire didn’t ease the painful twist in his gut. Ever since he’d warned Jaye that her ex was trying to get back into her life, he felt like his stomach was full of broken glass.
His insides shattered when she’d responded to his assertion with a simple I know. What did that mean? Did she want David to return? Did she think his texts would reveal why he stepped out on her? Mitch had no idea how to interpret her taut expression whenever the bastard’s name appeared on her screen.
The irony of her cryptic response wasn’t lost on him. He’d finally encountered someone who shared less than he did. Now he knew why previous girlfriends complained about his stubborn silence.
He never should’ve confessed he wanted to climb into her bed. Jaye hadn’t said one word the whole ride home. Was she contemplating his offer, or figuring out how to barricade her bedroom door?
Jaye walked into the living room, derailing his train of thought. He took one look at her long legs in blue denim and nothing else mattered. Put Jaye Davis in a skirt and she looked way out of his league. Put her in a pair of jeans and she became the girl he couldn’t live without.
She popped a chocolate wafer into her mouth and pointed the bag of cookies his way. “Want some dessert?”
“No, thanks.” He struck a match, touching the flame to the newspaper wadded beneath the firewood. Orange light curled around the kindling. A thin, gray stripe of smoke rose into the flue. Mitch looked over his shoulder at Jaye and the sharp craving in his gut exploded. “Forget dessert. I want you.”
She stopped chewing and swallowed.
The firelight flickering across her face made his breath catch in his throat. He wanted to snatch her phone and delete every man from her contact list. Hell, he wanted to bury himself deep inside her until she couldn’t think of anyone but him. She must’ve seen the thought cross his face, because she pressed the bag of cookies against her perfect chest.
A flimsy sack of cookies was nothing compared to the potent desire gushing through his veins, but the faint tremble of her slender hands shackled the animal lust inside him.
“Don’t be scared of me.” The sentiment was exactly what a murderous sex maniac might say right before he dragged his victim into the woods. Mitch gritted his molars, too damned aroused to think straight. He jabbed a finger at the wrinkled cellophane pressed against her breasts. “I’ll have one.”
Her gaze jerked to her chest. The delicate curves of her cheeks turned pink.
“A cookie, I mean.” Liar. Heat inched up his neck.
She smoothed out the wrinkles in the cellophane bag and nudged the dessert into his hand.
He tossed a chunk of chocolate into his mouth, wondering how to get her to talk again. Might as well ask the question he couldn’t chase out of his head. “If David showed up right now and asked you to leave with him, would you?”
Her brown eyes widened. “No. Why?”
A log popped, loud as a firecracker. With a hard yank, Mitch pulled the wire screen across the blazing fire. “I never should’ve looked
