by Emma Hart
Now, I’d want to kiss her every single time she opened it and sassed me.
How the fuck were we meant to work together now?
***
One hour later, Jamie slid into the garage with a paper bag with the logo of the taco place on. I slid out from beneath the car and met her gaze across the garage.
She lifted the bag lamely. “It’s probably cold, but here. Your lunch.”
“What about yours?” I got up and followed her to the staff area.
“I already ate. I ate there and ordered yours before I left.” She set the bag on the counter top and turned on the coffee machine. “Is that a problem?”
I paused. “No. It’s your lunch break. You can do what you like with it.”
She flashed me a smile and grabbed her mug from the cupboard. The spluttering of the coffee machine and rustle of my lunch as I unwrapped it filled the need for conversation.
The awkwardness that hung between us was palpable. It was almost electric, hovering uncomfortably in mid-air. Waiting for one of us to address what had just happened.
I ate and watched as Jamie finished making her coffee. The strap of her dungarees kept sliding off her shoulder, and after pulling it back up three times, she made a “hmph” noise and pulled her arm out of the strap, leaving it to hang by her side.
I hid my laughter when she turned around.
“Something funny?” she asked, eyebrow quirked.
I shook my head. “Thinking about you in striped socks again,” I answered.
I hadn’t been, but now that I was…
“You know, the ones that go over your knees? They’d look great with those shorts.” I paused. “And probably without them, too.”
She blinked those wide, blue eyes at me, but there was no innocence or humor back in them. “Are you being an asshole to purposely stop me from asking you what the hell you were playing at earlier?”
“Even if I was, it clearly didn’t work.” I shoved the last bite of the taco into my mouth and crumpled up the paper. I tossed it toward the trash can and it bounced in off the side.
Jamie watched it fall in and then looked at me expectantly. She even cocked her hip and put her hand on it. “Well?”
“I’m sorry,” I said around a mouthful of my second taco. “Was I meant to answer that?”
Her pursed lips said everything she didn’t need to.
“Right.” I wiped my mouth with my hand and set down my food. “Well, this might be fairly obvious, but I kissed you.”
“No, stop, really?” she deadpanned, not missing a beat. “That’s what that was? Well slap my ass and call me Sally, that was a new experience.”
“I’m going to do it again if you keep up with that sarcastic bullshit.”
She shoved her finger in my direction. “If you do that again, I’ll rip your eyes out of their goddamn sockets.”
“Have you ever kissed yourself, darlin’? It’s a risk I’d be willing to take.”
Her cheeks flushed. Embarrassment or anger? Who knew?
“You’re insufferable, do you know that? You had no right to kiss me. I told you that you should have done it on Saturday, not there and then!”
“And you had every chance to push me away,” I said dryly. “I didn’t see you doing that while you grabbed onto my shirt and kissed me back.”
“How could I push you away? You had me pinned to the truck!”
“I’m going to pin you to that wall and shut you the fuck up in a minute.”
“You dare!” Her eyes narrowed, and something flashed in them—something darker and more passionate. “You pin me to that wall and I’ll pin your balls to a goddamn dartboard!”
I got up and rounded the coffee table, keeping my eyes firmly on hers. Another flush rose up her cheeks, and she clenched her fists as I got closer to her.
And closer.
Close enough to smell the coffee on her breath.
Close enough to smell the lingering perfume on her skin.
Close enough that she stepped back once, then twice, and then a third time.
Every time she stepped, so did I. I didn’t reach for her or touch her. I invaded her personal space, and by the time she’d stopped walking, she’d pinned herself to the wall.
“Looks like I don’t have to do anything except get close to you,” I said in a low voice. “And you’re the one who put your back against the wall, darlin’.”
“You sneaky bastard,” she muttered.
A smile tugged at one side of my mouth. I reached between us and cupped her chin, forcing her head back and her to meet my gaze.
I searched her eyes.
Anger and confusion were tainted with the honesty of how she was feeling.
With lust.
She could deny it, but she wanted me to kiss her again, just as much as I wanted to kiss her.
I wanted to take her lips with mine right here, right now. Less rough. More softly—more deeply. Really explore her mouth with my tongue and see how far I could take her before she’d ask for more.
The thought made me smile wider.
She’d never ask for more. She’d never give in, no matter how much she’d want to.
She watched me. Almost expectantly, like she was waiting for it. She wasn’t going to fight or push me away. She wanted it just like I did.
But it was a bad idea. One kiss was one kiss too many. I already wanted more than I could have from her.
Nobody told my body that.
Still gripping her chin, I leaned in and brushed my mouth over hers. Her lips parted, and I captured her lower lip between mine. Slowly, I grazed my teeth over her lip, dragging gently until I’d released it.
“Nice try,” I whispered, my open eyes on her closed ones. “Maybe if you weren’t so obvious, you’d have been able to convince me that you don’t want me to kiss you.”
Her eyes snapped open. “I hate you.” She shoved me away and, grabbing her coffee, stormed out of the room into the workshop.
“You know what they say about hating someone,” I called after her, stopping in the doorway.
She looked after her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t cross the fine line into loving you, asshole.”
“I wasn’t talking about that.” I smirked. “I was going to tell you there’s a fine line between hating someone and fucking them.”
“Good thing you’ve got a spare hand, then, because that’s the closest you’re getting to fucking anything with your stunning personality.” She slammed down the lid of a toolbox to punctuate her words. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
“And, if you don’t mind,” I reached over to grab a taco. “I’ll eat my lunch and watch you.”
She shot me a dark look. “You owe me twelve bucks.”
“I’ll pay you back.” I smirked again.
Jamie simply glared at me before storming off to work.
God.
She was one hell of a firecracker, and why the fuck was that so hot?
Chapter Sixteen – Jamie
“He does it to piss me off, you know. It’s bullshit. There’s nothing he likes more than riling me up. It’s like some fucked-up fucking foreplay, and there’s nothing I can do, because he seems to have my damn manual. He can push all my buttons in all the right combinations. And my God, I’m trying, but one day, I’m going to flip my shit and he’s going to come face to face with my temper.” I sighed and sat right back. “I mean, what can I do? He kissed me when he didn’t need to, and the worst part of it all is that if he kissed me now, I probably wouldn’t push him away. It’s so messed up. I’m so messed up. I hate his guts, but I can’t stop wanting him, either. What am I supposed to do about this?”
My mom’s cat, Barbie, blinked her liquid-amber eyes at me. “Merow.”
“Yeah. Merow.” I resumed my stroking of her back, and she purred once again. “Why am I even telling you? You’re a cat. This isn’t Disney. You’re not going to suddenly start talking, are you? If only.”
; “Are you talking to the cat again?” Dad asked, joining me in the living room.
“Yes. She doesn’t answer back. It’s a nice change from work.” I scratched Barbie under the chin, and her purr got louder. “That’s right,” I cooed. “You just listen and listen, don’t you, Barbs? Good girl. You like that.”
Dad looked at me as if I’d lost it.
I had. I’d lost it. And I didn’t even care. There was no chance it—whatever it was—was coming back until these next two weeks were up.
“Still struggling at the garage?” He sat down on his armchair and picked up his glasses. He perched him on his nose and peered over at me. “Didn’t you go out with him this weekend?”
“I didn’t go out with him.” I stilled my hands. “His grandfather tricked me into attending his great-aunt’s birthday with him, and since you always taught me to respect my elders, I had to go.”
“Merow.” Barbie glared at me, protesting my lack of attention.
“All right, all right.” I, once again, continued pleasing the queen of the household.
Dad side-eyed the cat. He never did like her. “Fine, sure. You were being respectful. If that’s what the kids call it these days.”
“I’m not a kid.”
“You’re sure acting like it.”
“Only around Dex. And it’s not my fault he gets on my nerves. He knows just what to say and do to get under my skin.” I huffed. “What am I supposed to do? Ignore him?”
Dad set his tablet down on his lap. “Yes, darling. That’s exactly what you do. By all accounts, your relationship is based upon a foundation of solid bickering and uncomfortable attraction.”
“Please stop talking.”
“And he knows how get your motor running, so to speak.”
“Dad. No.”
“Ignore him. Stop letting him get to you, and eventually, you’ll reach a peaceful harmony.”
“Okay, for a start.” I held out one finger. “There’s nothing peaceful about him. At all. Not even when he shuts his cakehole.”
Barbie jumped onto the floor. Apparently, I was no longer interesting to her.
“And to continue,” I went on, “bickering is how we cope with each other. Our so called “relationship” is built upon nothing but hatred and, fine, an uncomfortable attraction.”
“Ah, the way all good relationships start,” Mom said, walking in with Barbie in her arms.
The cat was a traitor. She didn’t care who gave her attention, and she got it.
I stared at Mom as she sat down. “No, Mother, that is not the way all good relationships start. They start with a little bit of mutual respect and actually, oh, being able to tolerate being in the presence of the other person.”
A smile curled her lips. “I saw you eating pizza on your doorstep on Saturday.”
Dad chuckled.
“No, no, that’s not tolerance. All right, so it was, but it was after he hadn’t been so…Dex…all night. He was actually likeable for a few hours.” Why was this hard for my parents to understand?
“I think you like each other a whole lot more than you think you do,” Mom said, running her hand over Barbie’s white fur. “But you’re both so conditioned into hating each other because of the way you met that admitting it is akin to a death wish.”
“I’d rather die,” I admitted. “If I liked him, that was.”
Dad chuckled again.
“Glad to see my misery is amusing to you, Dad.” I huffed and folded my arms over my chest, staring at the TV.
“Your misery isn’t amusing, Jamie. It’s your stubbornness. You get that from your mother.”
Mom snorted. “Gets it from me indeed. She gets it from you, honey, and that’s the truth.”
“Nope. Definitely you.”
“Over my dead body.”
I stood up. “While you two are being stubborn about being stubborn, I’m going to shower. Text me when dinner’s ready, could you?”
I left while they were still arguing over who’d given me my stubborn streak.
The irony…
***
Rain beat down on the garage roof. It pitter pattered against the window behind me and the metal doors to the repair shop. For the first time since I’d worked here, the doors were shut, meaning the fluorescent lights gave the area a horrible, bright haze that had already given me a headache.
I blew into my mug of soup, doing my best to ignore the way Charley peeked up from her coloring every few seconds. Dex had apparently been wrangled into babysitting again while Roxy had another interview.
Charley glanced up at me, staring for a second before looking away again.
I never appreciated how creepy kids were until right this second. I swear, the kid looked into my soul, and every time she did, she uncovered some deep, dark freaking secret.
I felt like I was in the middle of a damn horror movie.
She looked at me the way all the demon kids did before they killed you.
Would anyone hear my scream?
Sheesh.
Charley glanced up again, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Do you need something?” I asked her.
She clutched her red pen tightly. “Are you the reason Uncle Dex was angry last night?”
All right. Wasn’t expecting that.
“Uh…I don’t know. Did he say I was?”
She pursed her lips. “He said something about that…sucking woman.”
Good to know she had more than one cuss word replacement.
“Oh. Uh, well, maybe?” It came out as more of a question than a reply. “I really don’t know,” I said honestly.
I mean, I probably was, but I couldn’t explain why to a seven-year-old, could I?
Charley nodded and capped her pen. She dropped it back into the mug with a clink. “He moaned for ages until Pops told him to shut his beaver’s butt.”
“His beaver’s butt?”
She looked side to side, then leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “His damn ass.”
His damn…
Ha.
Ten points to Roxy. That was a good one.
I pointed at Charley and gave her a thumb up with a nod. “Got it. Did he shut up?”
She sighed with the attitude of a teen. “It’s Uncle Dex. Do you think he shut up?”
I didn’t even need to consider it. “Not a chance.”
“It went on for hours. He said he’d fire her to keep his sanity if it didn’t mean she’d win. Then Aunt Greta told him if he didn’t pipe down and let her watch her show, she’d take a wrench and shove it—”
“Thank you, Charley,” Dex drawled, joining us in the staff room. “That’s enough about family game night.”
“It wasn’t family game night!” she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright. “It was you driving everyone insane night!”
I hid my smile behind my mug as I sipped my hot soup.
“Knew this was a bad idea,” he muttered.
“Besides, I didn’t even tell her the worst bit because I still want my ice-cream you promised me if I didn’t tell her.”
“The worst bit?” I looked between them both. “It gets worse.”
“For hi—”
“Shoop.” Dex clapped his hands. “Shush, Charley.”
“No, let her talk.” I glared at him. “What have you been saying about me?”
“Something she shouldn’t have been listening to in the first place,” he ground out, turning his dark stare from her to me. “It was between me and Rox.”
I put my mug on the table and stood up. “Well, now it’s between you and me, so spit it out.”
He said nothing, just continuing to glare at me.
I met his gaze beat for beat, intensity for intensity. I wasn’t going to back down on this. Charley hadn’t told me stuff I didn’t already know. Well, mostly.
“Do I still get my ice-cream?” she asked in a small voice.
Dex relaxed. “Yes. I promise. There’s nothing booked in after l
unch, so I’ll take you, okay?”
“Okay,” she answered, brightening and reaching for her pens again.
I stared at the side of Dex’s head. He was deliberately focusing on her to ignore me, so I grabbed my mug and stormed out of the room. I didn’t care if he followed me. As much as I wanted to know what he’d been saying, right now, I wanted to talk to him even less.
The only thing I could handle right now was being well away from him.
For the first time ever, I was glad when the phone rang.
I darted through to reception with my soup in hand, then grabbed the phone and answered. It was a standard request, so I booked it in, said goodbye, and hung up.
When I put the phone down, Dex was staring at me.
“What?” It came out harsher than I’d intended.
He hesitated. “I deserved that.”
I glared at him. “Unless you’re going to tell me what you said and apparently want to keep quiet or give me something to do, I don’t care about what you have to say.”
“It wasn’t that bad. It’s just Charley overexaggerating like kids do.”
“If it’s not that bad, there’s no reason to keep it from me.” I folded my arms. “Whatever. I don’t care.”
He raised an eyebrow as if to silently call me a liar—which I was—and leaned against the counter. “There’s nothing booked in after lunch, and nothing booked this morning that I can’t handle myself. You can take the day off if you want.”
“In other words, you don’t need me, so I can take my bad mood and go away.”
“Now you’re just putting words in my mouth.”
“Well, they’re arguably better than the ones you spew all by yourself.”
His lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles. “Not many people can make me speechless, but you just did it.”
“Yet, here you are, still speaking.” I rolled my eyes and tucked my hair behind my ear. “If I can really go…”
“You can go.” He held up his hands. “Preferably before you try to murder me.”
“Cute. You think those thoughts are restrained just to today. I won’t forget this.” I wiggled my finger in his face, then hit him with one final glare before I stormed off toward the staff room.
