did as she asked and she took a second before reaching out. His shirt was soft between her fingers and she tugged it down a fraction. When she couldn’t see anything other than one incredibly well-defined shoulder blade, Cassie released the shirt.
“It has to come off.”
He turned his head. “What?”
“Your shirt,” she explained. “I can’t see anything. I’m too short.”
“I’m sure it’s not—”
She ignored him, moved back around the countertop and grabbed the small first-aid kit from the bottom drawer. “It won’t take a minute.”
He didn’t seem convinced and hesitated before he shrugged again and then pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it on the table.
And of course she couldn’t look anywhere but at his bare skin.
Sweet heaven.
He didn’t possess the body of a man who spent hours in a gym—but of one who worked outdoors, using and honing muscles every day. His tanned skin looked as smooth as the sheerest silk pulled across pressed steel and the light smatter of hair on his chest was incredibly sexy. He was pure beauty and temptation. And she had to stop thinking about it.
“Turn around please.”
His eyes darkened and Cassie was sure she caught a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. So, maybe she did sound way too polite and incredibly tense. That was her nature...her way. He turned and Cassie saw where the bougainvillea thorn had pierced his skin directly below his shoulder blade. The spike was easily an inch long and was lodged deep. Cassie opened up the first-aid kit and took out a needle.
“I see it. This is going to hurt,” she said. “You might want to brace yourself against the counter.”
“Sure,” he said and stepped forward, levering his hands on the countertop.
She sterilized the needle and as she moved closer, Cassie tried not to think about his smooth skin and well-defined muscles. Or the fact she picked up the spicy scent of soap and some kind of citrusy shampoo that somehow amplified the awareness she experienced whenever he was near.
With purposeful intent, Cassie reached out and touched him. She sensed rather than felt the tension coiling up his back as her fingertips connected with his skin. She used the needle quickly and started dislodging the thorn.
“Ouch!”
She pulled back. “Don’t be such a baby.”
He jerked his head around and scowled. “Don’t be such a brute.”
Cassie stopped the grin that threatened. “I thought you were a tough cowboy.”
“I thought you were sweet and gentle.”
She sucked in a shallow breath. His words stilled in the air between them. Sweet and gentle? Is that how he saw her? Not lonely and guarded and desperate to keep her distance?
“Is that who Doug said I was?”
He didn’t respond immediately. “Yeah, of course he did.”
Cassie ignored the stab of guilt, grabbed the tweezers and extracted the barb. “All done,” she said and stepped back.
Tanner turned and she was faced with the solid wall of chest. She noticed a long faded scar below his rib cage, but other than that there was nothing imperfect about him. Her belly swayed and she got mad with herself. Being attracted to Tanner was out of the question.
Perhaps one day she’d find someone to share her life—a friend, a lover, a husband. Someone who she could love and who would welcome the role as father to her son. But not yet. She wasn’t ready. And she certainly had no intention of paying too much attention to the burgeoning attraction she had for the man in front of her.
Still, it was easy to get drawn into the warm depths of his liquid brown eyes. Easier still to stare at his broad shoulders and satin-smooth skin. Heat crept over her skin. Maybe I have a fever? Yes, that had to be it. She was unwell. Out of sorts. It had nothing to do with his brown eyes and broad shoulders.
“Cassie?”
His voice brought her stare upward and she locked his gaze as the air flamed, swirling up as it coiled around them. And suddenly she couldn’t pretend it was anything other than raw attraction. Chemistry. Undeniable and absolutely unwanted.
And from nowhere, a sudden memory kicked in. She’d felt it once before, long ago. She’d all but forgotten that hot summer when she was thirteen. She recalled the boy who’d captured her attention on the beach one late afternoon. Her first crush. Her first kiss. The fluttering in her belly caused a familiar rush and she quickly pushed the memory away.
“I should check Oliver,” she said on a shallow breath.
A car pulled out outside.
“Our pizza,” Tanner said and grabbed his shirt off the table. “Thanks for the first aid. I’ll be back with our dinner.”
He walked from the room and Cassie stared after him. Being around Tanner was a mistake. Maybe the biggest of her life.
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