Read Online Burn for You: Outback Skies, Book 2 by Lexxie Couper - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lexxie Couper
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closer to him, her heart thumping in her throat. “Tracey left because she was a shallow, superficial person who never thought of anyone but herself. She was sexting with my boyfriend before the Blue Mountain fire. She didn’t deserve you.”
He slid his gaze to her face. His Adam’s apple jerked up and down his throat. “You’ve put me on a pedestal I don’t deserve to be on.”
“And you haven’t given me enough credit,” she countered. “I’m a journalist, remember? And I’m a good one. A thorough one. I’m not just a pretty face who regurgitates words written for me by someone else and fed into an earpiece. I seek out the truth of any story I’m sent to cover. I spent the last twelve hours talking to everyone I could in this town about you. Not because you kissed me back on the helipad, but because it’s my job. My job is to unearth the truth. And you know what truth I discovered?”
He studied her, jaw clenched, stare unwavering.
“That Evan Alexander of Wallaby Ridge is a quiet man who keeps to himself,” she continued, voice soft. “But one respected by all that know him. Whose friends speak of him with warmth and loyalty. In fact, I got the distinct impression after talking to three of those friends, that my life wouldn’t be worth living if I caused you any pain. The doctor, Matt, suggested he has a case of Propofol—whatever that is—that would find its way into my blood system if I did wrong by you. The guy that musters stock in his helicopter…he went so far as to point out the Outback is a very easy place for a city girl like me to go missing. And truthfully, I don’t even want to contemplate what the police officer was thinking he’d do if I so much as considered doing anything to hurt you.”
Evan’s nostrils flared. Apart from that, his expression didn’t change.
Jenna let out a shaky sigh. “I talked to a lot of people in this town, and all of them spoke of your quiet strength and courage and community spirit. Of your rare smiles and rarer laughter. None of them spoke of your scars. None of them. That’s the truth of Evan Alexander. The man you are now. And that man may not deserve to be put on a pedestal, but he does deserve to think more of himself than he does.”
She stepped closer to him, reached out her hand and brushed her fingertips over the scars on his chest.
He sucked in a sharp breath. Remained motionless.
“I can see you’re not the cocky guy I first met, Evan,” she said, holding his stare as she feathered her fingers down his scarred ribcage. “But I can also see you’re not the hideous monster underserving of love or desire you think you are. And to be honest, I like the truth of the Evan you are now even more.”
“Jenna…” Her name fell from his lips on a husky rasp. His eyes fluttered closed. A frown etched his forehead and pulled at his eyebrows.
Drawing her own steadying breath, she removed the space between them. She skimmed her fingers up the twisted flesh of his left side, over the scarred curve of his left pec.
A shudder rocked through him as she brushed her fingers over the stretch of dark skin that had once been his left nipple. A strangled groan vibrated low in his throat. His Adam’s apple jerked up and down his throat again.
Heart racing, chest tight, her blood roaring in her ears, she trailed her fingers up his throat, to his jaw, and brushed her lips over his.
Another groan tore from him.
She didn’t linger at his mouth. Instead, she moved her lips over his chin and down the column of his neck, exploring the scarred skin with a path of gentle kisses.
“Jenna…” he rasped again, rolling his head back and to the side. She wondered if he was aware of what he was doing, that he was granting her lips greater access to his scars.
A joyous warmth throbbed through her. She raised her hands, smoothing her palms up his chest, her left hand on his unmarred flesh, her right moving over the uneven surface of his left pec.
He
He slid his gaze to her face. His Adam’s apple jerked up and down his throat. “You’ve put me on a pedestal I don’t deserve to be on.”
“And you haven’t given me enough credit,” she countered. “I’m a journalist, remember? And I’m a good one. A thorough one. I’m not just a pretty face who regurgitates words written for me by someone else and fed into an earpiece. I seek out the truth of any story I’m sent to cover. I spent the last twelve hours talking to everyone I could in this town about you. Not because you kissed me back on the helipad, but because it’s my job. My job is to unearth the truth. And you know what truth I discovered?”
He studied her, jaw clenched, stare unwavering.
“That Evan Alexander of Wallaby Ridge is a quiet man who keeps to himself,” she continued, voice soft. “But one respected by all that know him. Whose friends speak of him with warmth and loyalty. In fact, I got the distinct impression after talking to three of those friends, that my life wouldn’t be worth living if I caused you any pain. The doctor, Matt, suggested he has a case of Propofol—whatever that is—that would find its way into my blood system if I did wrong by you. The guy that musters stock in his helicopter…he went so far as to point out the Outback is a very easy place for a city girl like me to go missing. And truthfully, I don’t even want to contemplate what the police officer was thinking he’d do if I so much as considered doing anything to hurt you.”
Evan’s nostrils flared. Apart from that, his expression didn’t change.
Jenna let out a shaky sigh. “I talked to a lot of people in this town, and all of them spoke of your quiet strength and courage and community spirit. Of your rare smiles and rarer laughter. None of them spoke of your scars. None of them. That’s the truth of Evan Alexander. The man you are now. And that man may not deserve to be put on a pedestal, but he does deserve to think more of himself than he does.”
She stepped closer to him, reached out her hand and brushed her fingertips over the scars on his chest.
He sucked in a sharp breath. Remained motionless.
“I can see you’re not the cocky guy I first met, Evan,” she said, holding his stare as she feathered her fingers down his scarred ribcage. “But I can also see you’re not the hideous monster underserving of love or desire you think you are. And to be honest, I like the truth of the Evan you are now even more.”
“Jenna…” Her name fell from his lips on a husky rasp. His eyes fluttered closed. A frown etched his forehead and pulled at his eyebrows.
Drawing her own steadying breath, she removed the space between them. She skimmed her fingers up the twisted flesh of his left side, over the scarred curve of his left pec.
A shudder rocked through him as she brushed her fingers over the stretch of dark skin that had once been his left nipple. A strangled groan vibrated low in his throat. His Adam’s apple jerked up and down his throat again.
Heart racing, chest tight, her blood roaring in her ears, she trailed her fingers up his throat, to his jaw, and brushed her lips over his.
Another groan tore from him.
She didn’t linger at his mouth. Instead, she moved her lips over his chin and down the column of his neck, exploring the scarred skin with a path of gentle kisses.
“Jenna…” he rasped again, rolling his head back and to the side. She wondered if he was aware of what he was doing, that he was granting her lips greater access to his scars.
A joyous warmth throbbed through her. She raised her hands, smoothing her palms up his chest, her left hand on his unmarred flesh, her right moving over the uneven surface of his left pec.
He
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