Crushing on Love (The Bradens of Peaceful Harbor, Book Four) by Melissa Foster Page B

paused, and his words settled in like lead. “Sorry, Butterfly, but I’m not that selfish.”
    He laced his fingers with hers and led her away from the spot where she’d been sure they were going to share their first kiss. The spot where she’d left her legs, her hope, and a piece of her heart.
    Neither one spoke for a long time. When her brain began to function, anger replaced disbelief. She couldn’t take the silence anymore and said, “That’s it?”
    “Pretty much.” He lifted their joined hands as she stepped over a rock.
    “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of a jerk.”
    He laughed. “I’ve been called much worse.”
    “Seriously, most guys would have been all over me up there.”
    He slowed, clenched his jaw, then continued walking.
    Ugh! “Most guys would see it as a blessing that I’m not going to be a noose around their neck forever.”
    “It should’ve tipped you off that I’m not like most guys when you saw where I live. Besides, if you’re the type of girl who wants to be fucked by a guy who won’t give a shit about you the next morning, then I made the right decision.”
    “What? I’m not…That’s not what I meant.” She shoved a branch out of her way and stomped over a pile of twigs.
    “Maybe you should choose your words more carefully.” He guided her through a nest of cottonwood trees, and she knew they were nearing her cabin. She didn’t want the night to end like this. This was worse than before he’d said anything. At least then she’d still wondered whether he liked her, but now she knew he did—and he was choosing not to act on it.
    “All I meant was, most guys would have at least kissed me.”
    He mumbled something, then said, “You should have gone out with Will and gotten your kisses.”
    “I don’t want to kiss Will. I want to kiss you, dumbass.”
    He stopped short and tugged her against him so hard she smacked into his chest. “You know, it’s amazing you get any guys with all the compliments you dole out.”
    “Doesn’t anything ruffle your feathers?”
    “Yes. A certain mouthy brunette ruffles a hell of a lot more than my feathers.”
    She pressed her lips together and drew upon every ounce of courage she could muster. “Then why won’t you kiss me?”
    He brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek, fluid and gentle, but the look in his eyes was rough and possessive. The man was a walking contradiction.
    “Shannon, you are a gorgeous woman,” he said softly. “You’re smart, seductive, and playful in a way that I’m not at all used to and find so freaking hot, you drive me out of my mind.”
    Hope slipped in again, and she dared to hang on to it.
    “But for a girl who thinks she’s got most guys figured out, you haven’t got a clue about this guy.”

Chapter Five
    IT WAS HELL not popping over to see Steve in the morning, but Shannon needed to get her head on straight about what was, or wasn’t, going on between them. She spent the entire day vacillating between being embarrassed by being blown off and turned on by all the sexy things he’d said. She tried to focus on her research, but her mind kept circling back to being in his arms and the hungry look in his eyes as he’d said those seductive things to her. Hours later, after she’d traipsed over half the mountain collecting data, she still couldn’t make sense of it. But she was a researcher. And damn it, she’d figure him out one way or another.
    By the time she’d finished for the day, she was fit to be tied. There was only one way to make sense of a man she wanted this badly, and that was to let her girlfriends do it for her. Two phone calls and half an hour later she was dressed in her cutest outfit and out the door, heading for Buckley’s, a local bar.
    She hummed as she drove down the narrow mountain road. Do not even glance at his cabin. No looking. Just drive right past.
    Steve’s truck was parked at the end of his driveway with the hood up, and he was bent