“What?” he asked.
She blinked. “What do you mean, what? I said I owed you an apology for saying bad things about you. Don’t you owe me one?”
“I think you’ve said a lot worse things to me than I have to you,” he said, frowning.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, and anyway, most of what I said was true.”
She blinked rapidly. “Excuse me?” And she was pointing the staple gun in his direction, with what appeared to be intent.
“Sadie...”
“You said that I ran from things. And that I was on my high horse. And that the work that I do is worthless. And you’re going to stand by all of that being true?”
“That’s not exactly what I said.”
“It’s pretty much what you said.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. And he was feeling pretty sorry for most everything that had happened since Sadie had come to town. He’d screwed up with her. Way more times than he wanted to count. And now she was standing here calling him on it. All of it.
She huffed out a growl. “You’re just saying it now.”
“So?”
“So it doesn’t mean anything now.”
“I give up, Sadie,” he said, turning away from her and walking back in the direction of the crosswalk.
“Wait,” she said.
He stopped. “What?”
“Don’t leave. I’m mad at you. And I feel like we haven’t resolved anything.”
“Do we need to?”
“I’d like to.”
He turned to face her again. “Okay, what is it you want resolved?”
“I was wondering something.”
“What?”
“Do you want to keep having sex?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SADIE COULD HAVE immediately bitten her own tongue off. Where the heck had that come from? Oh, okay, she knew where it had come from.
Sleepless nights, endless erotic dreams about his strong body, his hands, his lips, his...well, his everything. She couldn’t forget him. Couldn’t forget how amazing it was to be with him. How much she wanted him.
She was so annoyed with herself, too.
She didn’t do the physical obsession thing. She just didn’t. And here she was basically burning up her sheets alone, waking up all sweaty and tangled up in the bedding like a dolphin in a tuna net.
On the verge of orgasm and with no desire to finish the job herself. And now this. This had come out of her mouth. On a public street, during a lovely sunny day. With children most likely playing at a nearby park.
Eli had been walking away, she’d looked at his butt, a butt that was so perfect and masculine and muscular and begging for her to touch it, and the words had just fallen out of her mouth.
He was just standing there, his expression stone, his lips pressed into a firm line.
Now she was filled with regret. Swollen with it. And she was still holding a staple gun.
It was a weird moment. There was no denying it.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“Oh, you know what I said. Why do people do that? Ask you to repeat something they heard but was totally crazy. Do you think I actually want to repeat that?”
“I have to be sure you said it,” he said. “Because honestly? My mind could be playing tricks on me. It’s entirely possible.”
“Yeah, I said it.”
“Then I have to be sure you meant it.”
He was frozen, every line in his body hard and firm, on high alert. Was he interested? All of his talk about how crazy it was—and it was—and the way he’d stormed out after... But maybe it was just because it was all making him feel as insane as she did.
