But still, did that give him the right to annoy the shit out of her?
“Maybe,” he went on, “I’m not the obnoxious one. Maybe you’re rubbed the wrong way because, you know”—he wagged a finger between the two of them—“this.”
“There is no ‘this,’” she replied, mimicking his finger-wagging thing.
“There’s something,” he argued. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but it’s there and it’s not going away.”
“You know, you’re the one who’s made it clear he doesn’t want any kind of a relationship,” she reminded him.
“Because you’re leaving,” he added.
“So it’s my fault?”
He moved one thick shoulder. “Just stating a fact.”
But what if she weren’t leaving? Don’t say it…“What if I weren’t?”
He glanced at her. “But you are.”
What was she supposed to say to that? “It’s not like I’m leaving forever. I’m coming back after the job is done.”
“So I’ve been told before.”
Stella watched him for a moment, noting the ticking in his shadowed jaw. “Not every woman is like your ex.”
“Thanks for stating the obvious.” They were both silent a moment. “Sorry,” he amended. “It’s my default nature.”
Boy did she understand that.
He heaved a sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face. “How are you expecting this conversation to go, Stella? One of us compromises something about ourselves and we run into your house for a quick bang?”
“You don’t have to put it like that.”
“How would you like me to put it?”
“Not like an ass,” she shot back. Couldn’t they get through one conversation without either fighting or shoving their tongues down each other’s throats? How did Annabelle and Blake do it?
They love each other.
No, they were in love.
Huge difference and Stella often didn’t understand how to make sense of the two.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered.
Stella stared out the window while Brandon pulled into her driveway. “For?”
He threw the truck in park and sighed. “I don’t know. Just seemed like the right thing to say.”
“Why apologize if you don’t know what you’re apologizing for?”
“Damn, Stella.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “You’re the most infuriating woman sometimes.”
Now he knew how she felt. Wanting to strangle a person while kissing them at the same time. Quite the predicament.
Instead of saying anything, because she was sure she’d only make the situation worse, Stella unbuckled and opened the truck door. “Thanks for the ride.”
Brandon undid his seat belt as well and got out of the vehicle.
“You don’t need to walk me up,” she said without looking at him.
Brandon didn’t respond as he withdrew her car keys from his pocket to unlock the front door. How did he even know which one was the right key?
The porch light was on and Stella stood back while Brandon unlocked the bolt. The hand gripping the keys was big and tan. Such capable hands. Strong and confident. Stella probably would have fumbled and dropped them on the ground before getting the door open.
She brushed past him and flipped the hall light on. Brandon slapped a palm on the door before she could close the thing in his face.
“Brandon, don’t,” she told him. “You don’t do casual and I’m not giving up my job for you.”
He stepped closer to her, wedging himself in the opening of the door. “I would never ask you to do that.”
Because he was a good guy. A good guy who wouldn’t dream of standing in the way of something he knew meant that much to her. But had she ever told him just how much this opportunity meant to her? Or was this just another way he’d figured her out? Stella wasn’t sure and the uncertainty made her squirm.
“I know, but…”
He stepped closer, and his chest brushed against hers. The cotton of his shirt did nothing to disguise the steel planes of his chest and the dips and grooves of muscle that would be perfect to drag her tongue over. He dipped his head like he was going to kiss her, glancing the tip of his nose along hers. But his mouth only hovered, frustrating her and turning her on at the same time.
A wave of heat bloomed across her chest and roamed its way down to the pit of her stomach. It flared over her face, pulling her skin tight across her skull and turning her even breaths into a struggle. When she tried to pull more air into her lungs, Brandon’s hand grasped hers, lacing their fingers together and cutting off her deep breath. The contact turned her breath into a gasp.
He immediately let go and took a step back. “Sorry,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Sometimes the urge to touch you is so strong that I forget you don’t like it.”
Yeah, except that wasn’t why she’d gasped. She had liked it, to the point where she wanted to touch him back. His shoulders were begging for her hands to curl over them. Then maybe lean in for a kiss because it sure felt like where they were headed.
“You don’t need to freak out every time you touch me,” she informed him.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Stella.”
She gripped the door with one hand. “You don’t.”
He tilted his head at her. “I think I do.”
Okay, he did. But not for the reasons he thought. He assumed her rapid heartbeat was because of her anxiety and fear of getting too close to someone. When actually her pulse kicked up because she wanted him. She wanted his touch. Craved it in a way that was so foreign to her, she didn’t know how to handle it. Every time he was near, her body transformed into something she didn’t recognize and it freaked her out. Instead he thought she was some nut case.
To prove him wrong, Stella closed the distance between them and curved her palm over his waist. Where she was soft and curvy, he was cut and solid. She skimmed her thumb over the ridge of his oblique and grinned when the muscle tensed.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Stella.”
She lifted her gaze to his and momentarily allowed herself to get lost in all the unspoken promises that could exist between them. “I’m not trying to prove anything to you.”
He leaned into her and curled his arm around her, resting his palm in the comfortable curve of her lower back. His breath fanned across her face and for a moment, just a moment, the panic started. It unfurled without her permission, and she’d spent so many years allowing it to control her, robbing her of intimacy and shared moments. Her face heated and beads of sweat erupted across her chest. Her heart continued its uneven beating and moved into her throat, choking her and robbing her of breath. And for the first time, Stella cursed herself for not being stronger than her demons, for allowing her fears to overrun her sense of stability and comfort.
“Breathe with me,” Brandon murmured. “Don’t let it control you.”