I stepped back. “Come in. You want some coffee? More water?” The words were out of my mouth before my head could catch up.
His grin widened. “That sounds good, thank you.” He stepped over the threshold and squeezed past me, deftly stepping around the dogs and trailing a scent that had me wanting to bury my nose in his chest.
Which obviously I was not going to do.
But holy mackerel, the man smelled good. There was a hint of firehouse, which should have sent me running in the other direction, but somehow only beckoned me closer. Combine that with a magical mystery ocean-clean smell and I straight up wanted to huff him.
Get it together, Devon. I clenched my jaw, nearly died at the pain it caused, silently cursed a blue streak, and walked past Samson and Daisy as they played with each other. “Kitchen’s this way.”
What was going on? It wasn’t possible that I was feeling something about him, no matter that it felt like I was magnetically drawn to him. It was too much. He was too much. I grabbed a cup, saw it was chipped, and grabbed another. I grabbed the coffee pot with shaky hands and clenched my jaw again. Goddammit that hurt. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
“Cream or sugar?”
“Black is good.”
Not like Jason, who’d used coffee as a sugar delivery system. I squeezed my eyes shut as I pushed the pot back into place, dizzy from the roller coaster of emotions. Finally, I turned and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He tipped the cup at me and sipped.
We stared at each other, and it probably should have been awkward. I clocked his running shoes, shorts, and the half-marathon race tee he wore, trying and failing to keep from noticing how the shirt stretched perfectly across his chest. I forced my eyes up to his. Eyes that were much more gray than I realized. Then again, before yesterday I’d been careful to never get too close to him. And judging by the way my body was reacting, thank god I stayed away. “So. You run?”
He nodded and smiled sheepishly. “Try to, at least until Daisy decides otherwise. But yeah, I run. If it’s something that’ll keep me outside, I pretty much do it. You?”
I twisted my lips. “I only run if a bear is chasing me. But I love to hike, and no bears have chased me while I hike.” I huffed out a laugh. I’d started hiking after Jason’s death because I just needed to move, same as after my parents died, I guessed. But it quickly became something more than an escape. “Stretching my legs for miles, seeing the top of a mountain and knowing I can get there, then having the view as my reward…it’s pretty amazing.” I stopped. What was I doing? I didn’t blab like this. “Sorry.”
He grinned. “Nothing to apologize for. I like to hike, too.”
I caught his eye. “You’re not saying that to make me feel better, are you?”
Now he laughed. “No. Definitely not.”
Oh. That laugh. It warmed my insides. Or maybe that was just the crap air conditioner. I clenched my jaw, then winced.
“May I?” He nodded at my jaw. Of course he’d noticed. He noticed everything.
“It’s nothing.” I waved it off. “Just sore.”
He gave me a look that said he knew I was lying. “Devon. I think it might be more than sore.”
God, the way he said my name, low and full. Until this moment, I hadn’t thought it was a particularly sexy-sounding name.
I wanted to argue with him, but if he looked at my jaw, it meant I could smell him again.
Which of course was a bad idea.
The worst, actually.
But. “Okay.”
He put his coffee on the counter and came toward me. His demeanor shifted as he walked, and his gaze sharpened as he focused on my jaw.
I tried to relax. He was being professional. This was professional.
“Can you turn your head to look at the window?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.
Honestly, I’d do whatever the man asked if I could keep breathing him in. It was a problem, and I knew it, but I couldn’t quite make myself care the way I needed to. I did as he asked, taking in the white wisps of clouds in the blue sky before closing my eyes against the morning sun. Maybe my pulse would get under control if I wasn’t looking at him.
“I’m going to touch you now,” he murmured.
Jesus Christ.
I gripped the counter, needing something to clench that wasn’t my jaw. Heat bloomed and pulsed deep inside of me as his fingers pushed my hair back. Then he cradled my head, his fingers not quite smooth but not calloused, either, and I barely kept from moaning. I shouldn’t feel like this. He should not make me feel like this. I was in my grandmother’s kitchen in the town where my husband had died.
“You’re not very bruised.” He ran his finger lightly over my jaw, then hummed, the sound of it low and sexy. Would he hum if I were draped on top of him, naked?
My eyes flew open. What was wrong with me?
Aaron flinched and pulled his hands away. “Did that hurt?”
I felt the blush stain my cheeks. “Um. No. Well, I don’t know.”
He studied me. “We need to go.”
I blinked. “Go? Go where?”
“To the hospital. I think it’s broken.”
