Torch: The Wildwood Series by Karen Erickson

Author:Karen Erickson [Erickson, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-08-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“ARE YOU HUNGRY?”

Tate’s deep voice penetrated her thoughts, and she glanced up, flashing him a small smile. “Starved.”

They were back in his SUV after spending a few hours at the lake. Swimming. Lounging on the beach stretched out on the giant towels. Sending secret smiles at each other before they launched into some ridiculous conversation about life or politics or whether Harper and West should elope or not. Always in the back of her mind was that kiss. That one simple yet staggering kiss had seared her from the inside out.

Oh, and left her wanting more, though he hadn’t delivered. Damn him.

“Let’s go to the BFD for a burger.” He sent her a look. “If you’re okay with that.”

Her smile was smug, considering she won the first swimming race. And the second. The man was a good swimmer, but she was better, after being trained by her brothers her entire life.

“I’m fine with that. You’re paying after all.” He shook his head and muttered something under his breath, which only made her laugh. And he smiled too, though it was more of a smirk. A cute smirk. He was a little sunburned, his cheeks and nose red, his hair a mess and sticking up everywhere, and wow, she never thought she’d seen him look better.

She sat up straighter when she realized she was staring, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy concentrating on driving, which was a good thing. A very good thing. If she’d been driving she probably would’ve wrecked the car, and the reason would’ve been so incredibly lame.

Oh, sorry, Lane—because it would definitely be her brother who came upon the accident scene first—I was too entranced with Tate’s male beauty, and I crashed the car.

Yeah. Lame. So lame.

“I had no idea you were such a good swimmer,” Tate said, his gaze still fixed on the road.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me.” She sounded flirtatious. The entire afternoon had felt like foreplay. Fun, yummy, sort of sexual but sort of not sexual foreplay. What would happen when they returned to his place? She already felt like she was lit from within. One look from Tate and he sent her into a slow burn. If he touched her again—or even better, kissed her again—she’d probably combust.

“True,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. It sent her nerve endings into a quiver. “Though I’d like to find all of those things out.”

If she could get away with fanning herself, she would. But she restrained her hands beneath her legs and pretended what he just said hadn’t set her on fire.

Lord help her, she was in deep, deep trouble.

They pulled into the BFD parking lot and nerves flapped in her stomach like giant bats. She might run into Harper while they were there, but she could handle it. Right? Harper would most likely make suggestive comments and pull her aside to gush that they made a cute couple, but Wren would just blow her off. Or at least, she should blow her off.

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