Kat wasn’t falling for my logic, especially after I returned from practically scouting the entire state and not finding one. “You’re here, so it’s okay.”
“Yeah, but I’m trying to be proactive about this and not reactive.” When she rolled her eyes, I opened the driver’s door. “You’re a pain in my ass,” I told her.
Raising her middle finger, she scratched her cheek.
I arched a brow as my lips twitched into a grin. “Nice, Kitten.”
She smiled at me and then spun around, swaying her hips across the parking lot. With those faded jeans hugging her curves, it was a nice view, so I wasn’t complaining about that.
Not until she jumped in a puddle the size of the Great Lakes.
Muddy water sprayed in the air, catching my legs. I growled low in my throat. “You’re like a two-year-old.”
She hopped up on the curb and cast a glare over her shoulder before stalking into the squat building. I waited for her at the end of the aisle as she went to her PO Box.
“Yay!” she squeaked, her face lighting up as bright as the trace around her as she reached into the box, gathering up an armful of yellow-enveloped packages. She cuddled them close to her chest, like it was a swaddled baby in her arms.
Cute. Nerdy cute.
Kat elbowed the box closed and then twisted the little key, locking it. She faced me, and our gazes collided and held for a moment. A faint pink blush zinged across her cheeks. She quickly averted her eyes.
She brushed past me, quiet as we walked outside, and then, because she couldn’t let me down, she jumped in the puddle again.
I jumped to the side, but it was too late. From my knee down, my left leg was soaked. “Jesus.”
She grinned as she hurried to her car, opening the back driver’s door. I quietly followed her, stopping at my SUV to watch her, well, bend over and shove her books inside. She straightened suddenly and looked over her shoulder at me. Something about the look she sent me, part innocence, part rebellious, was a huge turn-on.
Then again, practically everything she did was a turn-on.
I groaned under my breath as she returned to situating the boxes like they held breakable family heirlooms. Closing my eyes briefly, I bit down on my lip when the image of Kat formed. She was on her couch, under me, wearing those damn elf pajama bottoms. Nothing else. My stomach shifted. I was hungry for food and for her.
“I need pancakes,” I announced, opening my eyes. Of course, my gaze zeroed right in on a very attractive part of her.
Kat shut the door and faced me. “Are you staring at my butt?”
My lips curved into a smirk as I slowly dragged my gaze up to hers, letting my stare linger in certain areas. That blush was back, spreading down her throat, under the light blue sweater she wore, and her gray eyes had deepened.
There it was. What I felt was in her eyes. There was no hiding that.
“I would never do such a thing,” I said.
She snorted.
“Pancakes,” I said again.
“What is with you and pancakes? Why do you keep saying it?”
“Do you have pancake mix at home?” I asked, ignoring her question.
Kat frowned in confusion. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Good.” I grinned. “You’re going to make me some pancakes.”
She gaped at me. “I am not making you pancakes. There’s a Waffle House somewhere. You’re welcome to go get yourself some pancakes—”
I moved forward so quickly that she couldn’t track it. I was right in front of her, our bodies nearly touching, and I could see the moment her pupils expanded slightly. “I know there’s a Waffle House nearby, Kitten. But that’s not what I want.” Raising my hand, I tapped the tip of her nose with my finger. “I want you to make me pancakes.”
She jerked back, scowling at me. “I’m not making you pancakes.”
“You are.” I pivoted around and headed for my car. Once inside, I grinned at where she still stood. “You are so making me pancakes.”
Kat sat across from me, her lips pressed together as she watched me lift the fork to my mouth. My stomach rebelled at what I was doing. Something about these pancakes didn’t look right. First off, they were the size of a small moon. Secondly, when I cut into the lopsided stack, the middle was runny, and that just wasn’t right. And when I lifted a piece on my fork, a yellowy powdery substance puffed into the air.
Maybe demanding that Kat make pancakes was a bad idea.
I glanced over at the messy counter. The griddle was covered with batter, as was most of the counter and the front of Kat’s sweater. My gaze fell back to the pancakes. If I were human, I’d be afraid of doing what I was about to do.
I shoved the piece in my mouth and almost spit it right back up. My throat closed off as I forced myself to chew. The maple syrup didn’t even cover up the dry yet wet, tasteless chunk of flour. I willed the mess to go down my throat and stay there as I smiled tightly at Kat. A moment passed.
A peal of giggles erupted from her. “I can’t believe you actually ate a piece.”