Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,49
floodlights went off. Then a dim light came on beside the back door as Jacob stepped outside.
“You getting eaten alive?” he asked.
“Nope.”
He wore a gray T-shirt with his jeans now, and his hair was damp from the shower. She stood up to join him on the deck, setting her beer on the railing.
“Did you build this yourself?” she asked.
“With some help from my brother.”
“Does he live here in town?”
“In Fort Worth. We got the posts and piers done together, then I finished the rest.”
He rested his beer on the railing and settled his gaze on her. He smelled amazing. Not like cologne or aftershave, but something subtle and masculine that made her want to bury her face against his chest.
She thought of their kiss again, how everything had ramped up in an instant. Physically, they clicked. It was the rest of it that seemed off. She kept getting mixed signals, as though he liked her, but then he didn’t. Or maybe he didn’t like that he liked her.
“Are you mad that I looked you up?” she asked.
“No.”
“Are you pissed that I’m on this story?”
He took a sip, watching her, and set his bottle down. “Not pissed.”
“What then?”
He hesitated, seeming to carefully choose his words. “I’m concerned.”
“Why?”
“You’re digging into something you know nothing about.”
“Not nothing.”
Irritation flickered across his face.
“We may as well be honest,” she said. “I know more than you thought. I’ve managed to find a lot in only a few short days. You never thought I’d find any of it, did you?”
“You’re resourceful.” He turned to look at her, leaning against the railing. “And, yeah, I underestimated you. But that doesn’t change anything.”
“It changes things for you.”
“How?”
“You’re not my only source on this. I have others. Many, in fact. So you can relax. None of this is going to blow back on you.”
He dipped his head down. “That’s why you think I’m pissed off? Because I might get blowback over a fucking news story?”
She flinched.
“I couldn’t give a shit about that.”
She gazed up into those dark eyes, and again she saw the conflict. The frustration. And in her heart, she understood what was really bothering him. He didn’t want her getting hurt.
She went up on tiptoes and kissed him.
Last time had been hot but controlled. Not this time. He dug his fingers into her hair and pulled her against him as he delved into her mouth. The kiss was hard. Demanding. And she slid her hands around his neck and kissed him back the same way. His warm fingers dipped into the back of her shorts and cupped her buttocks, bringing her close against him, and she felt the hard ridge of him through his jeans. Desire surged through her, and she arched her back, pressing her breasts against him. He answered by pulling her in tighter.
She loved the way he kissed. The way he tasted. She loved the way he smelled and the way he touched her, like some forbidden temptation that might be snatched away if he lingered too long.
His hands moved, and she felt them close around her waist, and suddenly she was up off her feet. She gasped as he set her on the wooden railing. They were at eye level now, and she saw the desire burning in his deep brown eyes. She kissed him again, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him in close, and he made a low moan. She slid her hands up his sleeves, over those muscular shoulders she’d been wanting to touch, and his skin felt warm under her fingertips. She wanted his shirt off. Hers, too. He seemed to read her mind as his fingers slipped inside her T-shirt and glided around her back.
A faint buzzing noise penetrated the haze. It blended with the cicadas and then was gone. But then it came back again.
Bailey pulled away. “Your phone.”
He blinked at her.
“Inside,” she said.
He muttered a curse, and she slid down from the railing.
“I have to get that. Don’t move.”
He went into the house, and she watched him grab his phone off the breakfast bar.
Bailey shook off the daze. Her flip-flops had fallen, and she slid her feet back into them. She looked up. Jacob was watching her through the window, but his expression was a million miles away. She knew what that meant.
She picked up both of their beers and went inside. From his clipped words, she could tell it was work-related, and she set the bottles on the bar and went to her purse to