I stepped from beside the tree. “Let me show you.”
A yelp and wild throw that thankfully wasn’t in my direction were my welcome. Her body went rigid like I’d shown up in a ski mask and broken into her fortress of solitude. Watching her chuck the axes at the target and retrieve them from the ground had been fun, but she was also beating herself up about not getting the hang of it, which wasn’t going to make our day any easier.
At least that’s what I told myself. It wasn’t because I hated seeing her kick herself when she was down.
She never wanted anyone to see her sweat. Never wanted anyone to see her lose. Every throw was followed by a grumble and angry stomp to retrieve the projectile. Come to think of it, what I’d thought before was wrong. I was surprised there wasn’t a picture of herself taped to the target.
After seeing how hard she was on herself when she made a mistake, I didn’t take her reactions to my screw-ups nearly as personally. Compared to how she treated herself, I’d barely gotten a slap on the wrist.
“Do you think I don’t know how to throw an ax?” She whirled on me, brandishing the wood and metal weapon.
I was ninety percent sure she didn’t plan on using it on me. I set down the basket at the base of a wide tree that had to be at least a hundred years old. After all our time together, it was easier to see the difference between pissed-as-hell Zara, and I’m-fucking-with-you Zara.
Poor word choice. Ever since the night I’d helped her get undressed after puking her guts out, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Once she was in bed with her head on the pillow and her eyes closed, it had been an act of sheer will that had driven me from the room and kept me from curling up behind her on the mattress to give her comfort or be close in case she needed anything.
Instead, I’d thrown myself into overdrive cleaning her horror show of an apartment. I had a magic-maker working on some solutions, but it would take a little more time.
“Those weren’t my thoughts exactly. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Her eyebrows shot up, a cocky smirk curling her lip. “Hurt myself? Do you think I can’t get the job done?” She was always up for a challenge and never backed down. It was equal parts infuriating and hot. Right now, it was all heat.
“You’ve been known to drop the ball before. A certain presentation mishap.”
“One mistake.” She shook the ax at me.
“A pretty big one.”
“You’ve never dropped the ball? Figuratively and literally? Mr. All-American Football Player. They probably hoisted you through the hallways in high school like a Maharajah, didn’t they?” There was fire in her eyes, and the tension was growing with each angry word.
“College, too.” Why was I provoking her?
Because her fire was better than her freezing me out.
She whirled around, cocking her arm and letting the ax fly. It sailed through the air, clipped the edge of the wooden target and fell to the ground. “Damnit,” she cursed under her breath and picked up another ax from the pile.
“Now will you let me show you?”
Flipping the ax handle first in my direction, she let out a begrudging, “Sure.”
“It’s all in the wrist. It’ll be easier if I show you this way.” I stepped behind her, wrapping my hand around hers. A jolt shot through my palm. The dick problem was becoming more evident every second. Something about the way she was always ready with a comeback, never letting me get away with anything, painted a picture in my mind of what it would be like to have her under me. Or over me.
Her breath caught. She glared at me over her shoulder through the soft, strawberry-scented strands of hair brushing against the curve of her neck. She straightened her shoulders.
“Always so agreeable.”
Her lips slammed together and she stared straight ahead, flinging her hair into my face.
I pulled it out of my mouth.
The strands were soft, and I couldn’t shake the thump in my chest and the daydream of her moaning my name. Pressing my chest against her back, I lifted her arm over her shoulder, bringing the ax up by the side of my face. My fingers skimmed the curve of her wrist. “And follow through with an explosive release.”
“I’m sure you know all about those,” she grumbled.
“Take a breath. And when you let it out, follow through.” I guided her arm.
She filled her lungs and let it out, whipping the ax toward the target.
Thunk.
Her mouth opened in a ring of surprise, she turned and hugged me tight around my waist, squeezing like she wanted to lift me off the ground. Pure, unadulterated joy practically vibrated off her. And at something so small. She really never let herself have fun, did she? Just sneaking in a moment for herself here and there. I hugged her back, letting her happiness blanket this late fall afternoon in the middle of the woods.
Her smiling face looking up at me from my chest sent my heart racing. It was a hard-won smile, and that made it even sweeter. The green of her eyes was even more stark and bright than usual, filled with excitement and accomplishment. “Will you be giving lessons like those to all the women today? Awfully handsy.”
“You’re supposed to be my fiancée. That wouldn’t look good.”
She stepped out of my arms. “Oh, so now I’m your fiancée again.” She flung another ax and, proving once she learned something she never let it go, it sunk into the wood in almost the exact same spot. Impressive as hell.
“What do you mean, so now I’m your fiancé? We’ve been playing this game for long enough. I haven’t forgotten.”
“It seemed like news to the woman at the coffee shop.”
“Am I supposed to shout it from the rooftops to everyone I meet that I have a fake fiancée?”
“You were flirting with her.”
“She was flirting with me. There’s a difference.” Wait a damned minute. Why was I feeling guilty? “And so what if I’m flirting? Even if we were engaged, engaged men can flirt.”
“You’re right. You can do whatever the hell you want.” Her next ax hit the target faster than before. “You can flirt with, kiss, bang whoever you want. This”—she gestured to the rock procured by Hunter—“doesn’t actually mean anything outside of these things.” She waved her arms around the event we’d put together.
And then it hit me like a 400-pound offensive lineman. “You were jealous.”
Her throw went wild and she picked up another one. “That’s insane. No I wasn’t.”
“You were ear-steamingly, can’t-stop-yourself, jealous of the woman I was flirting with at the coffee shop.”
She shot me a blisteringly hot glare, but it only heated up the fall weather even more, setting my skin ablaze.
“I thought she was flirting with you, not the other way around.” She cut her gaze to mine before gritting her teeth and flinging the ax.
I closed the space between us with a playfully predatory smile. The trap had been laid and neither one of us had been paying attention. We’d set it for ourselves and I was ready to spring it even if she wasn’t secure enough to dive in. I stepped in behind her again, this time no longer feeling like I had to hold back. I let the words skim along the curve of her neck. “Wow, Gingersnap all you had to do was admit it.”