Home > Take Me (One Night with Sole Regret #3)(12)

Take Me (One Night with Sole Regret #3)(12)
Author: Olivia Cunning

The smell of pizza accompanied Jacob back into the kitchen. Amanda tossed the wet dishtowel in the sink and turned to face him, pretending she didn’t feel awkward by forcing a smile. “Smells great.”

Avoiding her eyes, he stared over her head as he slid the pizza box onto the still-damp island counter. He was not so good at hiding his own awkwardness. “I guess you decided against the pineapple and anchovies.”

“Yeah, I had that a couple nights ago. Thought I’d mix it up a little.”

He reached for his sunglasses, but she snatched them up before he could get his hand on them. No way was she letting him hide behind them. She didn’t care if it made him uncomfortable to look at her after he’d almost kissed her.

“No sunglasses for you tonight,” she said, stuffing them down the front of her shirt. His gaze landed on her chest and her damp T-shirt. This time when her ni**les hardened, it wasn’t from the cold. It was from the heat in his eyes.

“Um.” He jerked his head up and took a step backward. “I’ll get you something dry to put on.”

He fled the room before she could tell him she was more than happy to wear a wet shirt if it made him look at her like that. She sighed, hid his sunglasses in a random drawer and then searched the cabinets for plates. A few minutes later he returned with a bath towel and a button-down man’s flannel shirt. “I figured you were probably cold.”

Oh sure. So she was supposed to wear a big flannel shirt that covered her from neck to knee while she was forced to look at him in his skintight T-shirt that pulled against his well-defined muscles every time he moved? And he expected her not to tackle him to the floor and get her hands on every bulging inch of him? Her eyes dropped to his crotch. Yeah, she especially wanted to get her hands on that particular bulge.

“Thanks,” she managed to say.

She pulled her T-shirt off over her head and reached for the shirt he was holding in her direction. He gaped at her as if he’d never seen a chick in her bra before. As soon as she had his shirt in her possession, he spun around and faced the opposite direction.

“Amanda,” he said breathlessly, “what are you doing?”

She smiled, glad he was at least a little flustered. “Putting on your shirt so I don’t catch cold.” She buttoned it to the middle of her chest and then wriggled out of her wet shorts. She tossed them at him, and they smacked him in the back before falling to the floor. “Should I take off my panties too? They’re positively drenched.”

“No!”

She bit her lip to hold in a laugh. Why was he acting so embarrassed? Amanda imagined women threw their panties at him all the time.

“I’m decent,” she told him. Not that she wanted to be.

He took a deep breath and turned to face her, as if dreading a walk to the guillotine. His gaze slid from her feet up her bare legs and to the large, shapeless shirt that fit her like a muumuu.

“Mercy,” he said under his breath. He squeezed his eyes shut and then bent to retrieve her wet shorts and shirt. “I’ll put these in the dryer for you.” He fled the room again.

Perplexed, Amanda scratched her head. What the f**k was his deal? She wasn’t that unappealing, was she? For a few minutes she’d actually thought he was attracted to her. Now he was treating her like she had a communicable disease.

Oh well. She wasn’t going to let his lack of interest ruin her evening. Even if he didn’t want her in a sexual capacity, they could still have a few laughs together. She searched the fridge for a couple of beers, tossed several slices of pizza on a plate and grabbed the bowl of fruit before carrying it all to the family room off the kitchen. She set everything on the coffee table and knelt in front of his shelves of Blu-ray discs, scanning titles for something that would give her an excuse to bury her face in his chest. Just because he wasn’t attracted to her didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy being close to him. Right?

Desperate much, Amanda? She released a heavy sigh.

On her elbows and knees, she swayed back and forth with nervous energy as she read titles. She wouldn’t have known he’d entered the room if he hadn’t muttered, “son of a bitch,” under his breath. What was his problem now? She pulled a case off the shelf and tossed it on the coffee table.

“How about that one?”

“Fine,” he said, without looking at it. He crossed the room to the large ottoman at the foot of an oversized blue chair. He opened it and pulled out a blanket. “Have a seat.”

When she sat on the sofa in front of the television, he unfolded the blanket over her lap and then went so far as to tuck it in around her legs. “That’s better,” he said.

“What’s better?”

He paused. “I figured you were cold.”

“In a flannel shirt?”

“Your legs, I mean.”

“It’s June.”

“The A/C is on.”

“Okay, I get it. I’ll keep covered up,” she said testily. “Sit down and eat.”

Scratching the back of his neck, he eyed the chair on the opposite side of the room. If he sat all the way over there, she was going to punch him in the nose.

“Put the movie in,” she said and loosened the blanket so she could reach for a slice of pizza.

He obeyed. She glowered. They hadn’t even kissed, yet all of the easy friendliness between them had vanished as if he’d just discovered he’d been making out with his first cousin. She paused with her pizza dangling from her mouth. Oh God. Maybe he thought of her like a sister. She suddenly felt like throwing a Julie-sized tantrum.

Jacob got the movie going and then settled at the opposite end of the sofa from where Amanda was wrapped up like beans in a burrito.

“Uh, no,” she said, “if you’re making me watch a scary movie, then you’re sitting within grabbing distance.”

He inched closer but looked none too happy about it. She munched her pizza and sipped her beer while pretending she didn’t feel like an ugly duckling. The room darkened as the sun slipped beneath the horizon. The surround sound and the suspense soon had Amanda so engrossed in the movie that she couldn’t look away from the wide screen. She was the woman lost in the woods. She was the woman who kept glancing over her shoulder. The sound of crunching leaves grew louder behind her. Closer. Louder. Something grabbed Amanda’s shoulder. She screamed.

Jacob burst out laughing.

She smacked him on the arm. “You scared the shit out of me.” Her heart was racing out of control.

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