A Sweet Mess - Jayci Lee Page 0,30

his coat closet with a lower ceiling.

“Do you think I’ll fit in there?” he asked. He didn’t mind squeezing into a tiny tent with Aubrey, but keeping his hands off her would be torture.

“Don’t worry. Guys bigger and taller than you have slept in it without trouble.”

He gave himself whiplash, snapping his head toward her. Her profile told him nothing of her intent, but imagining Aubrey with big, tall men rubbed him the wrong way. Rubbed him raw. Goddamn it. Was he jealous? No, because that would be ridiculous.

“If you say so.” He contorted his face into what he hoped was a smile. “Thanks for saving me from sleeping like a pretzel in my car.”

“Sure thing, I guess. You sort of invited yourself.” Her grin softened the bite of her words, and his lips spread into a genuine smile. They stood grinning at each other until Aubrey abruptly broke eye contact and glanced at the sky. “We should get the campfire going. It’ll get dark soon.”

“On it.”

He went to his Alfa Romeo and grabbed a bundle of firewood Aubrey had brought. She tugged out a small folding table beside him. After scouting for a spot, she set up the cooking gear on the table for their makeshift kitchen. Meanwhile, Landon rummaged through the rest of the provisions and grocery bags with feigned nonchalance. He couldn’t find the lighter for the campfire.

Her brows drawn together, Aubrey stood from her log as though to help, and Landon’s search grew frantic. He’d rather rub two damp branches all night than ask her for the fucking lighter. His humiliation quota was filled for the day. Then he saw it. The damned thing was hidden between some popcorn and marshmallows. When he straightened with a handheld lighter wearing a Howdy Doody grin, Aubrey doubled over with laughter, pretending to have a coughing fit.

“I could find you a flint and a rock, if you’d prefer,” she said, her voice hoarse.

After glaring at her with as much indignation as he could muster, he bent to light the fire to hide his grin. He was going to get her back for that. Later. He was busy at the moment. Utilizing his common sense, he crumpled up some newspaper and nestled it inside the piled wood and lit it. After a few minutes, the campfire crackled and burned robustly, and he took a moment to congratulate himself.

Time to prepare a dinner for two.

“I could make cassoulet,” he said, digging out chicken and sausage from the cooler.

He rummaged through the grocery bag and grabbed a couple of cans of beans. There was a random carrot, slightly past its prime, half an onion wrapped in plastic, and a bulb of garlic at the bottom of the bag. She must’ve cleaned out her fridge for her time away from home.

Landon washed and trimmed the vegetables next to his makeshift cutting board and then reached for the knife. Let’s hope I remember how to use this thing. It was the first time he’d held a kitchen knife since he’d given up his dream. The outdoor setting somehow made the moment feel less intimidating. Campfire cooking was about having fun. There was no reason to take a trip down memory lane. He didn’t need fanfare for his comeback.

Then he was back. It was where he was meant to be. His hands knew exactly what needed to be done, and he moved without hesitation, grabbing this and throwing in that. When he stopped, a pot of cassoulet was ready to go on the fire. Except for the most important ingredient.

“Aubrey, you said you had red wine, right?”

“Yes.” Her voice was breathy, and her cheeks appeared pink. Wordlessly, she ducked into the tent.

Did he do something wrong? Shit. He hadn’t said a word to her for twenty minutes, lost in his own world. Aubrey returned and handed him a bottle of red. He opened his mouth to apologize for ignoring her, but she spoke first.

“I’m starving,” she said, her eyes roaming his face and then dropping to his hands. Then her gaze jerked up and landed on his mouth.

Oh, God. Did watching him cook turn her on? I should cook something else. Right now.

“For food. I want food. Not other stuff.”

Landon stirred some wine into the pot, pretending not to know what she’d meant. He hoped the falling dusk hid his hard-on and that the moment would pass. But Aubrey stood transfixed, her breath coming in quick puffs, and his gaze slid to her parted lips.