Falling for Jillian
Page 15

 Kristen Proby

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I’m so mortified, I don’t know what to do with myself. Before I can turn and run away from him, he catches my arm again and turns me to face him, his hands holding my shoulders firmly.
“What do you want from me?” he growls.
“I want you to be honest,” I reply. “I want you to look me in the eye and just tell me you don’t want me. Stop playing with me. We had sex months ago, and I was afraid it was going to make us all uncomfortable, and for a little while it did. But then it got better, and now we’re back to awkward. Zack, our families are entwined, and we’re going to see a lot of each other. I don’t want to always be on edge around you.”
“Jilly,” he whispers, his eyes pinned to my lips. “I’m trying to apologize for hurting you. For not talking to you.”
“You could just stay away from me,” I say and try to back out of his hold, but his fingers tighten. “We’ll be civil at get-togethers and just ignore each other the rest of the time.”
“That’s not possible.” He steps closer and tips my chin up with his cold glove-covered finger. “That’s just it, Jill. I can’t stay away. I’ve tried for months. I know I’m fucking this up because when I’m around you, I turn into a tongue-tied idiot. I wanted to apologize for hurting your feelings and ask you to come out to the ranch tonight for dinner.”
He’s panting like saying that was the hardest thing he’s ever pushed past his lips. He looks uncertain and vulnerable and suddenly, something in me . . . shifts.
“You want to do dinner with Josh and Cara?” I ask uncertainly.
“No.” He shakes his head and chuckles humorlessly. “I’m asking you out on a fucking date.”
“And eloquently at that,” I reply dryly. He swears under his breath and backs away, and I gasp at the loss of his heat on my cold shoulders.
“You know what? Never mind.”
We’re still standing in my yard. This is insane.
“Wait.” He stops with his back to me. I walk to him and stare up at him. “What about Seth?”
“He’s staying with a friend in town tonight,” he replies.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” I tell him defiantly. He lets out the breath he’s been holding and laughs, and when he sobers, he pulls his gloves off and tosses them to the ground, then cups my face in his hands gently.
“I’m not asking you to my home to fuck you, Jillian. I want to make you a meal, maybe watch a movie or bad TV, and spend some time with you.”
“Why now?” I whisper.
“Because I can’t get you out of my head. I haven’t slept in days because I couldn’t stand the thought that I’d hurt you. I just want to be with you.”
“Okay.”
He pulls back in surprise and studies me carefully. “Okay?”
I nod and offer him a soft smile. “I’d enjoy having dinner with you. And I get to pick what we watch.”
“It’s a deal.”
His thumbs are rubbing the apples of my cheeks and when he leans in, I’m sure he’s going to kiss me, but instead he plants his lips on my forehead and rests there for a few long seconds before pulling back and smiling at me, that dimple in his cheek on full blast.
That dimple alone is going to be my undoing.
“Six o’clock?” he asks.
“Sure. What can I bring?”
“Just you.” He stows my ladder away in the shed and carries the tote inside, setting it next to the rest of the decorations I’d dug from the attic.
“Thank you for helping. And for the invitation.” I pull my boots and gloves off, and just when I reach for the scarf, he tugs the ends, pulling me to him.
“I’m looking forward to it.” He kisses my forehead again, my nose, and then lays those lips on mine in a quick, chaste kiss. “I’ll see you soon.”
He pulls the door closed behind him and I sigh, watching him climb into his truck and pull out of my driveway.
Why do I suddenly feel like everything is about to change?
It’s raining. I swear, Montana Mother Nature is on her period. She’s all over the damn place this winter. It started to rain about a half hour ago, so the roads are just wet, but if the temperature drops, it will be emergency travel only by this evening.
I shouldn’t go to Zack’s. I should stay home.
So why am I pulling into his driveway?
I park and stare at the front of the large white house that sits nestled in tall evergreen trees, draped in snow. There is smoke swirling out of a chimney. Chickens are clucking and scratching the dirt in their pen, drifting in and out of their coop in the side yard.
Mrs. King always liked having the coop close by so she could gather eggs early in the morning.
I grin and climb out of my car, carrying my famous angel food cake and strawberry topping, along with whipped cream, for dessert.
Of course, I’d rather lick the whipped cream off Zack’s body than this cake, but I’ll take what I can get.
Before I can knock, the door swings open and Zack grins widely, wiping his hands off on a green kitchen towel. He’s in his usual faded jeans and a T-shirt that says Army Strong across the chest. The sleeves are tight on his biceps as they flex with the movement of his hands, and just like that, my mouth has gone dry.
Pull it together!
“Hey,” I say lamely and offer him a smile.
“Hey, come on in.” He closes the door behind me and tosses the towel over his shoulder so he can take the cake from my hands as I remove my coat, scarf, and boots and then leads me into his house. Thor comes running out of the kitchen to greet me, his tail wagging furiously, his whole body shaking with excitement.