I watch as he crumples up some old newspaper that was lying in a stack next to the fireplace. “I was wondering what that was for,” I mention. Next, he strategically stacks small sticks on top of the paper before standing to grab a box of matches from the mantle.
“You want the papers handy so you’ll have something that will feed the flames to the kindling. Otherwise, you won’t get the fire going,” he finally says.
“Kindling?”
“The thin pieces of wood. You start with these. Come here.” He motions me over and I kneel down next to him. “You see how I crisscrossed these pieces all around the paper? It allows oxygen to flow through and feed the fire while it grows. Once the kindling pieces are burning, you can slowly start adding in bigger pieces of wood and full logs.”
“Huh,” I say, actually impressed. “Never seen anyone start a fire before.”
“Your dad never did?”
I’m a little taken aback at his personal question. “No, I didn’t have really have a dad.” He doesn’t say anything back, so I continue talking. “So, when can I add more wood?”
“Give this a few minutes. I’ll stay until it gets going enough to build it up.”
“You want something to drink?” I ask.
“Whatcha got?”
He stands up and reaches out to pull me up, so I’m once again standing close to him. He’s looking down at me and I feel my pulse quicken. I just wish he’d kiss me already. Throw me over his shoulder and drag me back to my ro—
“Quinn?”
“Wine?” I forgot I was staring at him.
“Sure.”
I scurry off to the kitchen to pour us each a mug. I come back a minute later and see him looking at the picture of my mom, my cat, and me.
“That’s my mom and me. And my cat Bella Sue. They’re both gone now.”
“I’m sorry.” He reaches over and takes the wine from me.
“Cheers,” I say, holding out my glass. “To learning new things,” I say gesturing toward the fire. This time he remembers to keep his gaze on mine as he sips.
I’m painfully aware of how awkward the silence hanging between us is. It’s eating me up inside how much I want to ask him about earlier. I want him to throw the mug down and push me up against the wall, but he doesn’t seem interested in me like that anymore. What the fuck?
“You like The Office?” I point at the TV with my mug.
“I’m not much of a TV show guy.”
“What kind of guy are you? Shoot ‘em up movies?” I grin.
“Shoot ‘em up?”
“Yeah, the big bravado action movies where Jason Statham is shooting everyone and blowing things up to save the girl and the world.”
He shrugs his shoulders and then runs his hands through his hair as he leans against the mantle. This is the first time I’ve seen him do this. He looks . . . relaxed.
“I like a good action movie, yeah. Big fan of thrillers, actually.”
“Interesting. Got a favorite?”
He takes a sip of his wine, “The Shining, probably.”
“That’s horror.”
“It’s both,” he winks.
My thighs clench. Damn my traitor body.
The fire looks like it’s gaining momentum, so he places his mug on the mantle and squats back down. He grabs a few bigger logs and puts them on the fire in a similar crisscross fashion before standing back up and grabbing his mug. I take the moment to admire his smooth movements. I wonder what his hair feels like . . . what it smells like. It’s thick and shiny and all I can picture is grabbing it while his face is between my thighs. I’m full-on staring at him again when he meets my eyeline.
“Something on your mind?” His eyes are dark, like they were at the river this morning.
“Do you want to go to the Fall Fest?” I blurt the words out before I can completely comprehend what I’m saying. Did I just ask him on a date? He stares at me blankly for a moment. Clearly, that was not what he was expecting me to say, because he lets out a long sigh before running his hand roughly over his beard.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” I continue. I try to play off the rejection before it even happens and turn to walk into the kitchen. I don’t need anything. I just don’t want to stand here with egg on my face in front of him.
“Quinn,” is all he says.
“It’s cool, I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry. I know—” I stop myself. I was going to say, I know it’s not like that between us, but honestly, I don’t know what it’s like between us, and I don’t want to say those words in case, for him, there is something between us. Ugh, why does this have to be so complicated?
“The fire looks good. Just throw another log on it every hour or so and it should burn through the night. If you run into any trouble with it,” he points toward the ceiling, “you know where to find me.”
He thanks me for the wine before heading toward the kitchen. “I got it,” I say as I grab the cup from him and place it in the sink before following him to the door. “Thanks again for the fire lesson.” I see his eyes darken a little before he nods and starts to walk away. “Oh, and thanks for the fishing lesson earlier, even though I only ended up wet.”
He’s a few steps down the balcony walkway when he stops, turns around, and walks right back toward me, his eyes fixed on mine. I grip the edge of the doorframe, not having a clue what to expect, when he puts his arm above my head and leans down so our lips are almost touching again as he says, “That’s what she said.”
I immediately burst into a giggle, “So you do watch the show,” I say referring to Michael Scott’s famous line from The Office. He stares at my lips for another beat before flashing me a wink and turning to walk away.
And just like that, my panties melt.
Eight
Sawyer
Walk the fuck away, I say to myself over and over again as I stare down at her pouty little lips. It feels like it’s literally killing me to resist her. I still can’t believe I managed to pull myself from her this morning down by the river. What she doesn’t realize is that if Pearl and Jade hadn’t shown up and ruined the moment, I had every intention of making good on my promise. With just a simple “yes” from her lips, I know I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from bending her over and sinking my cock deep in her sweet little pussy.
Just the thought alone has me salivating. My dick’s so hard it could probably cut glass right now. Snow has started falling at a pretty rapid rate. The ground is already covered and the wind coming down the mountains has picked up substantially. I pull out my phone and check the weather app, confirming that there’s still a winter weather advisory in place. I consider telling Quinn to stay in my guest room tonight, but just the thought of her sleeping that close has me at full attention again. I adjust myself as I step inside and close my door, putting some distance between us.
I know that getting involved with her would be trouble for both of us. I’m not Mr. Settle-Down-and-Start-a-Family. Tried it. Failed at it. Don’t want it again. And the way she looked at me when she asked me to the Fall Fest . . . that’s the image I need to keep in my mind the next time I’m about to give in and take her. Those big doe eyes have a story behind them. She wants more than just a casual fuck here and there, and she deserves more. But I’m not the man who can give it to her, and the quicker she understands that, the better.