“Well, obviously I know what you’re doing,” I blurt out hoping I sound more frustrated than aroused, because holy hell, he looks good enough to eat standing there in his jeans and faded T-shirt, his hair a tousled mess like he jumped out of bed, and took off without running a comb through it.
“Then maybe the question you should be asking is why?”
“Okay, why are you so annoying?” I ask.
His lips quirk. “Nice to see you too.”
My libido jumps into overdrive. “I didn’t say I wasn’t happy to see you,” I say as he maneuvers the cart around me and heads outside. I finish paying quickly and follow him out. His muscles flex as he lifts the heavy bags.
“You don’t have to do my work for me.”
“I know.”
“This is my job. My responsibility. Not yours.”
“I know that, too.”
“You don’t—”
Before I can get another word out, he’s there, right there, his mouth inches from mine. Air leaves my lungs at the intensity in his stare. He cups my elbow, holds me like he fears I’m going to bolt, and in a low, deep voice he says, “I’m responsible for your injury and for the next ninety-six hours I’m responsible for you.”
“You can’t be serious.”
His breath gusts across my lips. “Would I be here if I were kidding?” His gaze moves over my face, checking the lump that has gone down significantly since yesterday and the dilation in my pupils.
I breathe in the fresh, soapy scent of his skin, and hope my knees don’t give out. God, if I wobble, he’d likely add another twenty-four hours to our time together. Dammit, now I want to wobble.
Then why are you fighting this, Alyssa?
“I’m fine,” I say.
“Yeah, you are,” he says with a small grin, and I get the feeling he’s talking about something else entirely.
“Alek—”
His eyes go soft when I say his name. “I’m helping, whether you want it or not.” He shrugs. “You probably won’t even know I’m here.”
I doubt that.
“You were right when you said you were stubborn,” I mumble.
“You’re one to talk.”
“Are you sure I’m not keeping you from something? I’m guessing you have better things to do.”
“Is this it?” he asks and tosses the last bag of soil onto the pile. I nod and he steps close again, humor gone from his eyes. That intensity is back tenfold and a quiver moves through me. “You were gone when I woke up. It worried me.”
My heart pounds and I struggle to form a thought at the raw way he’s looking at me, need and hunger evident in his gaze. I’m sure my face mirrors his. This tension between us, my God, if we stand too close to the fertilizer, I fear we might detonate it.
“I didn’t mean to worry you. It wasn’t my intention. You just did so much for me already.”
His eyes narrow. “Why did you leave money?”
I wave my hand toward his abandoned vehicle. “Your car. I didn’t want you to have to walk.”
He goes completely silent, and something that looks like astonishment pools in his eyes. “Jesus,” he mumbles and scrubs the sexy scruff on his face. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” I say with a grin throwing his words back at him and hoping to lighten the mood.