was the hood of a car.
Finger still pressed on my lips; he dipped his head bringing his mouth to my ear.
"Why did you run?"
I didn't answer. There was no way Kade was getting the truth from me. Realizing I wasn't going to reply, he palmed my cheek and pressed his lips to my neck trailing kisses along my skin.
A soft moan escaped my lips, and Kade stilled. The workshop was quiet, only the sounds of our heartbeats and ragged breaths filled the air. I didn't doubt he felt whatever was passing between us...because I did. I felt it right down to my toes. And it wasn't a feeling I welcomed. No guy had ever given me that explosion of butterflies except one person. A person I'd forced out of my mind a long time ago.
This was bad.
Very bad.
"Tell me you don't want me. Right here on the hood of this car. Tell me."
I lunged forward, throwing my fists into Kade's chest and leaping down off the hood. "That line might work on most girls, but not me, Ford."
Kade raked a hand through his damp hair and smirked. "Not what you were saying two seconds ago. You were putty in my hand."
"Just get the damn package, will you."
Without another word, Kade stalked to the back of the workshop and returned seconds later with a small package. "Here."
I swiped it off him and started to back up. "Thanks. I guess I'll be going."
He tipped his chin slightly but didn't reply. The air around us continued to sizzle from our earlier moment, and I knew if I didn't get the hell out of there, I'd be begging him to finish what he started.
I turned to leave, but Kade's voice stopped me in my tracks. "I guess I'll be seeing you around."
There was something in his voice. A promise that things weren't finished, which only caused my ache to intensify.
This is not good.
~ Kade ~
She was really back in Gainesville. I'd heard from Russ and Ethan that she was, but seeing Staci with my own eyes was something else. Something unexpected. I had heard her before I saw her, calling out for Ethan. My whole body hummed with the sound of her voice. That voice . I crept out of the office and watched her move lithely around the workshop. Dressed in skintight pants and an oversized sweater, she looked beautiful with her blond curls falling over her shoulders, and I leaned against the tall toolbox drinking in the sight of her.
No girl had ever gotten to me like Staci Jameson. In fact, no girl had ever got to me. Period. I just wasn't wired that way, which was why I was so intrigued by her. The first time I laid eyes on her, we were visiting Corey, my cousin, up at USF. She was hot, and I was the typical twenty-two-year-old guy. I wanted her. Ethan knew her roommate, Livy, and we ended up drinking with them one night. I couldn't stop looking at her, but the more beer she drank, the louder and feistier she got. A total live wire. I couldn't help but draw her in; I disagreed with her just to be a dick and get her worked up. But I liked that about her; that she was more one of the guys than your typical chick. Tight little body, perfect rack, and she knew football. I had to have her.
The first time was just sex. Drunken, messy, hot sex. Staci was confident in her own skin, a firecracker between the sheets, but when I woke up wanting to go round two...she was gone. It didn't bother me too much at first. I chalked it up as a lucky escape—no awkward morning after or clingy chick to contend with. But I never forgot. She lingered in the back of my mind. I just never figured out what it meant. Why she got under my skin like that. I still didn't get it. But one thing was for sure—if Staci was in Gainesville for the foreseeable, it wasn't the end.
Chapter 4
~ Kade ~
"The wife finally let you out then," I called over to Ethan as he approached our booth, earning snickers from Keefer, Morris, and Ashton.
"Hey, I gave her a pass out. I wear the trousers in our relationship," Ethan joked, picking up the spare beer and shuffling in next to me.
"Yeah, yeah. Tell it to
1796-1874 Agnes Strickland, 1794-1875 Elizabeth Strickland, Rosalie Kaufman