His green gaze flared so brightly it became almost phosphorescent. And then my stomach acted up, performed a slow roll that had me pressing my palm against it. The warm wind blew August’s intoxicating scent into me. Instead of easing the tension, it increased it, made my skin desire the long fingers that gripped his bent elbows to brush over my elbows, my arms, my wrists.
This was so not the right time to concoct racy scenarios.
I shifted from one foot to the other, hoping he couldn’t guess all that was going through my mind.
“I need to know something.” His voice was so rough it spurred my smutty contemplations. “Am I going to lose you?”
“Lose me?” I snapped out of my trance.
“To him? Am I going to lose you to him?” His words whispered over my nose. “You’re worth fighting for, but I need to know if it’s a fight I have a chance of winning.”
My heart climbed into my throat.
“I’ll step back, Dimples”-the nickname didn’t sound very childish suddenly-“even if it goes against everything I want, I’ll step back, but you have to ask me. Do you want me to step back?”
“No,” I blurted.
His stance softened, which wasn’t to say he slumped or unwound his arms. He was just more timber than steel. “But I can’t step forward, can I?”
I gulped and shook my head.
He bobbed his head as though he was filing the rules away. After a beat, he said, “I don’t share what’s mine.”
Those words were like lighter fluid poured right into my core, igniting something fierce and deep. “Good, because I don’t share either.”
A smile ghosted over his lips, bumped straight into my heart, made it beat faster.
“I’ve got some terms of my own.”
“Oh?” I swallowed, trying to moisten my throat that felt as dry as plaster. “I’m listening.”
“I won’t touch you, but there’s no way I’m not seeing you every day, and not from the nosebleed section.”
“Okay.”
“I want to know what you’re up to, and where, and not through the mating link. This isn’t me being a stalker, but there are Creeks in Boulder, and I trust those bastards even less than I trust Liam, which is saying a fucking lot.”
I’d never heard August curse so much. Then again, he was no longer the soft boy I’d had a crush on but a man weathered by human wars and pack skirmishes.
“And before you make a comment about my unhinged swearing, know that I’ll drop a hundred dollar bill in Mom’s curse jar, and you’re going to witness me doing it, because I’ll deposit it tomorrow night during dinner at their place, dinner to which you are coming. And to which you can bring Jeb.”
I jutted my hip to one side and planted my hand on it. “What if I don’t want to go to dinner at your parents’ house tomorrow night?” I did, but I didn’t appreciate the form of his invitation.
His gaze turned challenging. “You don’t have to come, but that’ll break Mom’s heart.”
My hand skidded off my hip. “That’s a low-blow. How am I supposed to not come now?”
His smile grew a little wider and a little more roguish too. He was enjoying riling me up.
“You know, if you’d just asked me, I would’ve said yes.”
“Just wanted to see your face light up, Dimples. Just wanted to see your eyes turn that spectacular shade of blue they get when you’re emotional. Even though I’d much rather make them bluer using . . . other methods.”
I was pretty certain my eyes had just gotten a lot bluer.
He raised his hand to my face, but before he could touch me, he curled his fingers into his palm. “Fuck the convalescence period after the helicopter crash. This is going to be so much worse.” His hand plummeted to his side.
“Maybe”-I wet my lips-“maybe we shouldn’t spend too much time together. It’ll make it harder.”
He snorted. “That part’s not negotiable.”
I flicked him, then snatched my hand away, shocked I’d broken the rule first.
He stared at my hand. “Never thought I’d crave getting flicked, but if that’s the extent of our physical contact, then flick away.”
“I shouldn’t even have done that,” I said, tugging my lip into my mouth.
“That thing you’re doing to your lips. Try not to do that when we’re together.” He took a step back as though it would somehow ease the tension jostling the tether between us.
I freed my lip. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. It’s not your fault I’m so darn attracted to you.”
A thrill shot up the entire length of my body. “I should probably go, huh?”
He palmed his dark, cropped hair, then looked over his shoulder at the construction site. We were far enough away that our conversation hadn’t carried but close enough for the men to watch us. When he looked at me again, his eyelids had thinned. “Yeah. You probably should because I’m about to fire a whole bunch of people.”
I frowned.”And if you ever come back to visit, wear a muumuu or something bigger.”
He wanted to fire people because they’d looked at me a little too long? “A muumuu? I don’t even know what that is.”
“A shapeless dress. Grams used to wear them.”
I smirked. “I don’t own any muumuus.”
“Well, buy some.”
“With your money?”
“It’s your money. All of it. I’ve already paid taxes on it.”
“August, I can’t accept-”
“If you don’t want it, give it to charity.”
“August . . .” I all but growled.
“Dimples . . .”