So, it really shouldn’t be a surprise that my body reacts the way it does as I make my way to the area Justin is setting up. Pitcher of ice water in one hand, an empty glass in the other, I watch his form as he spins around at the sound of my footsteps. I literally feel myself falter and my steps grow heavy as everything seems to slide into slow motion the minute my eyes lock onto his. Eyes that are as blue and calm as the lake I swim in every summer since I can remember, and possibly just as deep.
A warm smile spreads across his face, and I’m almost certain a look of terror appears on mine. At least, it feels like it, as my eyes open wide and my mouth falls open. My heart rate accelerates to a pace that could rival a run-away train; my skin instantly grows hot and flushes to what I’m sure is a lovely shade of crimson. Beads of sweat break out on my back and neck, and I pray the deodorant I’m wearing holds up to its promise of being the most powerful sweat and odor protection available. Damn it! I hate when Kelly is right. This guy isn’t just good-looking; he’s gorgeous.
Without even realizing it, I’ve come to a full stop in front of him, stupidly staring while I cling to the pitcher and glass in my hands, my mouth hanging just slightly ajar.
“Is that for me?” Is it possible that his smile just got even brighter? He points toward my waist, and with my gaze following the direction of his finger, I look down at the pitcher in my hand, finally snapping back to life.
“Oh, shit! Sorry!” I set the glass on the table and move to fill it with water, positive he can see my hand trembling as I do. His hand wraps around the glass as soon as I pull the pitcher away. Bringing it to his mouth in one smooth motion, he drinks the clear liquid in four large gulps.
“God, that’s good. Nothing tastes better than water on a hot day.” Smiling, he holds the glass out in front of me, silently asking for a refill.
I move to refill it, and without thinking, speak. “Even in Hell, people get an occasional sip of water, if only so they can appreciate the full horror of unrequited thirst when it sets in again.”
I lift the pitcher away from the glass and look up to find him staring at me, his eyes wide with question. I shrug my shoulders and try to explain. “You said it was hot as Hades. You know, Hell?”
“Yeah, I got the reference.” He brings the glass to his mouth again, his eyes staying locked on mine, as he drinks down half the glass before setting it on the table. “You a Stephen King fan?”
“I’m Sydney.” I put the pitcher on the table, turn around, and quickly walk away before I can make a bigger fool of myself. “Just let me know if you need more water.”
“Thanks.” His voice reaches my ears as I scurry away. “I’m Justin, by the way.”
I toss a wave over my shoulder and practically throw myself under the cut-through, finding a snickering Kelly waiting on the other side. “Real smooth, Syd.” Shooting her a look to kill, I continue moving until I pass through the doors to the quiet safety of the kitchen.
Find love notes or other Michelle Windsor books here
The Beard (Haylee Thorne) Page 17
