Page 21 of Mountain Grump Protector

Somewhere along the way, I can feel some of the tension slip away, and she relaxes a bit more. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asks when I finish with the last bandaid.

I rock back on my heels and look up at her, the question taking me off guard. “Because you needed help.”

That’s not the entire truth, but there’s no way I’m going to tell her everything. Especially not when I can’t properly put it into words myself.

“But you don’t even like me.”

“Excuse me?” I can’t even pretend to understand what’s going on with this woman. “What on earth gave you that idea?”

She sits up straight and looks me in the eyes, the fire I’ve gotten used to blazes in her gaze. “I kissed you.”

“You sure did.” I remember every second of that kiss, and at the moment, it’s taking everything in me to keep from reaching her and doing it again.

“You didn’t like it.”

“What the fuck would give you that idea?”

For a flash, her tough facade falters, but she catches herself at the last minute. “If you liked it, you would have⁠—”

I’ve heard enough. Despite everything in me telling me I shouldn’t, I push up from the floor, reach for her face, and pull her toward me until I’m once more devouring that sweet mouth of hers.

Willow

His hand cups my jaw, rough and warm, and then suddenly his mouth comes back to mine.

Nothing about this kiss is careful or hesitant. It hits hard and fast and steals every coherent thought out of my head as his mouth moves against mine with a kind of restrained hunger that makes my whole body ache.

Oh.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

When was the last time I kissed someone because I wanted to? When was the last time I kissed a man I was actually attracted to?

Probably never. Even my very first kiss when I was twelve was behind the hardware store, so Billy would give me my book bag back. I couldn’t remember any interaction with a man that wasn’t transactional. Where they didn’t look at me, only to see what they could take.

The thought is too sad to contemplate. Especially with Cal’s mouth on mine.

Because this kiss…this..whatever it is with Cal. It feels different.

Dangerously different.

One of his hands slips into my hair while the other braces against the couch beside my hip, caging me in without making me feel trapped. If anything, it’s the safest I’ve felt in years. Maybe ever.

Which, honestly, might be the scariest part.

A soft sound escapes me before I can stop it—and hearing how much I want this is exactly what drags my brain back into the moment.

Because I don’t understand him.

Does he want this or not? Does he want me?

Or was my first instinct right? That, despite all his objections, he does want something out of me? Men don’t usually do what he’s done—pay off a debt that isn’t his, take me in, patch up my feet like I’m something worth the trouble—without expecting something in return.

And now he’s kissing me like he wants more.

Yet…

None of this makes sense.