Passion in Bloom (Hometown Heartstrings #2)

Chapter 8

Roarke

“T hen call them,” I told the TV. Fucking refs won’t bat an eye at the Patriots being offsides but—”

“Roarke!”

I raised my brows and frowned at the interruption. I’d been waiting for Heather to talk to me, but not like this. Shouting my name outside my door as she banged her fist on it in a rude knock.

The hell?

“Roarke. I know you’re in there.”

I’ll be damned. She was looking for me, and by the tone of her angry voice, I doubted she’d come here to fuck.

I muted the TV and stood, stretching as I approached my door. The 49ers weren’t going to win with unfair refs ruling over this game. I wouldn’t be missing much if I paused it. Leaning down to grab the remote, I shut the TV off and continued toward the door.

I was curious.

And intrigued.

But more than anything, I couldn’t resist this giddy spark of excitement.

Even if she was mad, she was seeking me out.

I unlocked and opened the door. At once, as the chilly air rushed in, my abs tensed at the coolness. I’d been playing a game of waiting for reliable hot water. It seemed the crew Todd hired to fix whatever was wrong with that pipe messed with my hot water tank and the pressure from it.

Finally having a steady stream of hot water for a shower, I took a nuclear one, steaming myself to be so hot that I hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on after it. Nevaeh had disappeared again, not on the couch in the morning, so it didn’t matter what I wore or didn’t wear in the privacy of my home.

With Heather at my door, though, and her stare dropping to take in the sight of my bare chest, I wondered if this was my wisest move yet.

“Yes?” I asked, arching one brow.

“You need to back off.” She furrowed her brow, losing her fight and glancing at my chest again.

“ I need to back off?” I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Don’t fucking confuse me with David. I haven’t done anything to pursue you since you’ve made it clear that you’re not interested in anything I can give you.”

“You told him,” she argued. “You told Marty about David showing up.”

“I did,” I agreed neutrally.

“Yeah, and that’s the opposite of backing off!” She lifted her hand as though she wanted to shove at me, but dropped it. “You had no business telling him anything.”

“I don’t need your permission to care,” I shot back.

“You do!” She frowned harder. “I’m not yours to care about.”

I shook my head, feeling so lost and bewildered that she’d get hung up about someone giving a shit about her. “It’s called human decency, Heather. If you’re unfamiliar with this concept, it’s when people want others to feel safe. It’s when a person witnessed someone being harassed and wants to make that stop.”

She pressed her lips together so firmly, lines bracketed her mouth.

“Then stop asking him to look into me any further,” she insisted.

“I haven’t.” I held my hands up in a truce-like manner. “I told him about David showing up and he admitted that he’s got nothing on him. His hands are tied without evidence of that fucker actually doing anything. He said he wanted to try to talk to you again, but I warned him not to.” I let my eyes narrow, hoping she’d see the frustration I tried to deal with on this topic. “I told him not to push you. Because I know damn well you won’t say shit. Not to anyone.”

“I don’t have tell anyone anything,” she protested hotly.

“Yes. That’s something you’ve made loud and clear,” I replied dryly. “And that’s why I told him to reconsider talking with you.”

She had yet to lose her frown.

“I heard you. You want your privacy.” I watched her lower her gaze. It wasn’t a shy gesture, but she did seem pensive. Some of that hostility faded, but she remained tense.

“Marty must just be doing his job,” I explained. “He’s a good man. A good cop. He’s bound to follow up however he can if he feels there is a concern with someone in Burton.”

A branch snapped and cracked outside, not standing up to the force of the breeze.

She jumped. I flinched a bit too, but I stepped to the side, silently encouraging her to come in.

To my surprise, she did.

“I thought that might be the case,” she said as she stepped inside. “But that doesn’t make it right. I don’t like the feeling of anyone watching me.”

“Marty? Or David?”

“Both. Neither.” She hugged herself, looking around my space.

“I understand that. No one wants to feel watched or stalked.”

When she didn’t correct me, insisting that David wasn’t stalking her, I worried even more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, as carefully and neutrally as possible.

She shook her head.

Again. With her and my niece, I was constantly talking to a wall.

Both of them. They were the only two women in my life. They had different significances and connections to me, but it felt like a cruel twist of fate that they both had to be so damn secretive and not communicating about important things. If Nevaeh was being cagey and confrontational while she expecting things from me, Heather was being aloof and giving me no sign of wanting anything to do with me again.

That simmering attraction hadn’t fizzled out. I felt it, and I knew she had to as well. Especially with how much she seemed to struggle in not looking at me shirtless.

But nothing else was happening. No trust. Hell, not even a morsel of friendship.

What the hell can I do, though?

I knew what my options were.

I had none.

I couldn’t do a damn thing but try my best to be patient. To let them know I was here and I was willing to help them and keep them safe. Getting mad wouldn’t accomplish much. Coercing them to answer wasn’t my style.

I couldn’t do anything to get them to trust me with some answers.

“I don’t want to talk,” Heather said.

I watched her strain to swallow, as if her throat was dry or she was struggling with too many emotions.

Fuck me, if she cried, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I didn’t want her to be upset at all, let alone to the point of tears. It would only make this situation seem that much more ridiculously hopeless.

“Okay.” I shrugged, staying calm and nonthreatening. “No talking.”

She nodded, meeting my gaze.

“Should I assume you just came here to yell at me?”

Her tongue peeked out to trace her lower lip. “Sort of.”

I chuckled dryly, not amused but not surprised either. “Hmm.”

“I assumed Marty was asking around about me because you’d asked him to.”

I shook my head, watching her glance down at my chest again. Hell, if she kept that up, I’d get harder at the idea of her touching me where she stared. “I didn’t ask him to. I advised him to tread carefully because you prioritize your privacy.”

“Thanks.”

I nodded slowly. “I might hate how you’re keeping me at arm’s length,” I said, making sure no anger could be heard with my words, “but I’m not going to be an asshole and push, Heather. I listen. And I’m not stupid. You say you want to be left alone, I know that you mean it.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“You’re welcome.”

A long, awkward moment hung between us. As she stared at me, I watched her expression shift from that combative frown to something more relaxed. Something more like a wishful gaze.

“Is that all?” I asked once I couldn’t handle the charged tension between us. Lust was getting to me, making me imagine how mad she’d be if we closed the distance between us. Desire filled me, making my dick hard as I gave in to the lure of her being here, alone with me.

“Yes.” She frowned and immediately shook her head. “No.”

“I can’t read your mind,” I said, taking one step closer.

She didn’t run. If anything, she swayed and leaned toward me.

“But I think I’m getting better at reading you, gorgeous.” I took a chance and lifted my hand to cup her cheek. She pressed into my palm, sighing.

“Yeah?” she whispered breathily.

“Uh-huh.” I licked my lips, thrilled when she watched the motion. “And I’m getting a hunch you’re not interested in keeping me at arm’s length right now.”

She stepped closer, into my space, and draped her arms over my shoulders to bring me flush to her. “I want to be in your arms.”

I growled, resting my brow against hers.

“Is this a good idea?” she asked in a sexy whisper as she rubbed her cheek alongside mine.

“I have no clue what this is, gorgeous. You want something, you tell me. You need something, you show me.”

It was more than giving her the opportunity to make herself clear. It was an invitation. It couldn’t be right to segue into something sexy. There were appropriate times for intimacy, but on the tails of talking about her need for privacy, I assumed it wouldn’t be wise to detour into something like sex.

She whined, a slight sound of indecision. Then she masked it by kissing me hard.

I groaned against her mouth, taunted and invigorated by how quickly she slid the tip of her tongue along the seam of mine. And then her entering for a taste, stroking my tongue with hers as we moaned and gasped, deepening the kiss with brutal need and swift urgency.

It was hot. It was fast. And I couldn’t get enough of it.

My dick hardened, and as she rubbed up against me, grinding right there , I lifted my other hand to join the other in cupping her cheeks and holding her head where I could plunder her mouth and invite her to submit.

“I don’t want to talk,” she whispered between panted breaths when she pulled back.

I shook my head. I didn’t either. It couldn’t be smart to dive straight into addressing this desire that pulled us closer together. But neither of us wanted to stop.

“No more talking.,” I agreed. It was wrong. I had no business getting involved with her while she held back from telling me details that I likely needed to know about her situation.

But I couldn’t stop.

She smiled, gifting me with that naughty grin as she kissed me again. Deeper and longer. As though she had no intention of retreating now that she’d made the move to kiss me.

And I was all for it, no matter how much of a mistake it might turn out to be.