anyway.”
He headed around the truck as if he hadn't just called me a coward.
He was almost to his door when I shouted over the hood, “Sure. Easy out. Maybe I'm not the one afraid to get naked.”
Oh. My. Gosh. That did not just come out of my mouth.
“Darlin', I bet you shower with your bathing suit on. Now get in the truck so I can take you home.”
I stood there, at the front of the hood as if I could block him from driving off as he climbed in and turned the headlights on.
“Bridget,” Jake stood on the runner and looked over the edge of the open door. “Are you coming?”
“I want my list back.”
I couldn't see him over the glare of the lights.
“You want your list back? What are you going to do, frame it?”
“I'm going to do it. Even if I have to do it by myself.”
Actually, that didn't sound like a bad idea. Skinny-dipping alone seemed like a much better plan. Getting naked anywhere near a guy—especially a guy like Jake Moore—seemed like one of the stupidest things I could have come up with.
I blame the temporary betrayed-and-hurting insanity.
We glared at each other. Me standing in the blinding light of the headlights. Him barely silhouetted by the moon behind him.
Okay, maybe I wasn’t sure if he was glaring or not, but I sure was.
“You really think you're going to get naked in front of me?” He stepped off the runner and came around the door to face me, entering my personal space and forcing me to crane my neck to look up at him. “You think if we head on over to that creek you're just going to strip off that kindergarten teacher outfit and dive in wearing nothing but the skin God gave you while I sit here on this hood and watch?”
He tapped the hood of the truck behind him to prove he was willing to watch me strip for a dip.
“No one said this was a strip show.”
“You wouldn't get in the water if I let you keep your bra and panties on, let alone skinny-dip. You're way out of your league. Let's get you back to the sandbox.”
“You wanna bet?
Jake stuck crossed his arms, his feet braced shoulder-width apart, and glared down at me. I was crossing lines faster than I saw them coming, but that happy little third-of-a-beer buzz had me feeling like I could be something else. Even if just for tonight.
Jake pivoted and headed away again, calling over his shoulder, “Fine. Get in the truck.”
“What?”
“Get in the truck. You wanted to skinny-dip, we're going to go skinny-dipping.”
He stalked around the open door and jumped back in the cab. I waited a moment before I did the same, slamming the passenger's side door for good measure. He gunned the engine and drove us across a field toward the copse of trees on the far side.
With the silence taking over, he parked the truck, turned it off, and slid around to face me.
“Last chance.”
Just the way he said it, his low voice dropping another octave, made my gut churn.
He was right. I was in way over my head, but I wasn't backing out. I may have been a lot of things, but I wasn't a coward. Without waiting for him to push me again, I hopped out of the truck, slamming the door. If there wasn’t a therapy center somewhere that let you come in just to slam doors, there should have been.
I met him in front of the truck and glanced toward the dark mirror the trees were clustered around. He pulled a blanket out of the back of the truck, and then gave me that grin—the one I already knew signaled nothing but trouble.
After a glance that said, there's no way you're not going to back out , Jake started walking toward the water, pulling his t-shirt over his head as he went.
It really was unfair. I couldn't just take off a layer and not feel naked. Guys had the upper hand in situations like this.
Yeah, because there were tons of situations like this.
Not to mention I was one hundred percent sure my body was not as ogle-able as his. If I wasn't mistaken—and even in this near dark situation, I was pretty sure I
He headed around the truck as if he hadn't just called me a coward.
He was almost to his door when I shouted over the hood, “Sure. Easy out. Maybe I'm not the one afraid to get naked.”
Oh. My. Gosh. That did not just come out of my mouth.
“Darlin', I bet you shower with your bathing suit on. Now get in the truck so I can take you home.”
I stood there, at the front of the hood as if I could block him from driving off as he climbed in and turned the headlights on.
“Bridget,” Jake stood on the runner and looked over the edge of the open door. “Are you coming?”
“I want my list back.”
I couldn't see him over the glare of the lights.
“You want your list back? What are you going to do, frame it?”
“I'm going to do it. Even if I have to do it by myself.”
Actually, that didn't sound like a bad idea. Skinny-dipping alone seemed like a much better plan. Getting naked anywhere near a guy—especially a guy like Jake Moore—seemed like one of the stupidest things I could have come up with.
I blame the temporary betrayed-and-hurting insanity.
We glared at each other. Me standing in the blinding light of the headlights. Him barely silhouetted by the moon behind him.
Okay, maybe I wasn’t sure if he was glaring or not, but I sure was.
“You really think you're going to get naked in front of me?” He stepped off the runner and came around the door to face me, entering my personal space and forcing me to crane my neck to look up at him. “You think if we head on over to that creek you're just going to strip off that kindergarten teacher outfit and dive in wearing nothing but the skin God gave you while I sit here on this hood and watch?”
He tapped the hood of the truck behind him to prove he was willing to watch me strip for a dip.
“No one said this was a strip show.”
“You wouldn't get in the water if I let you keep your bra and panties on, let alone skinny-dip. You're way out of your league. Let's get you back to the sandbox.”
“You wanna bet?
Jake stuck crossed his arms, his feet braced shoulder-width apart, and glared down at me. I was crossing lines faster than I saw them coming, but that happy little third-of-a-beer buzz had me feeling like I could be something else. Even if just for tonight.
Jake pivoted and headed away again, calling over his shoulder, “Fine. Get in the truck.”
“What?”
“Get in the truck. You wanted to skinny-dip, we're going to go skinny-dipping.”
He stalked around the open door and jumped back in the cab. I waited a moment before I did the same, slamming the passenger's side door for good measure. He gunned the engine and drove us across a field toward the copse of trees on the far side.
With the silence taking over, he parked the truck, turned it off, and slid around to face me.
“Last chance.”
Just the way he said it, his low voice dropping another octave, made my gut churn.
He was right. I was in way over my head, but I wasn't backing out. I may have been a lot of things, but I wasn't a coward. Without waiting for him to push me again, I hopped out of the truck, slamming the door. If there wasn’t a therapy center somewhere that let you come in just to slam doors, there should have been.
I met him in front of the truck and glanced toward the dark mirror the trees were clustered around. He pulled a blanket out of the back of the truck, and then gave me that grin—the one I already knew signaled nothing but trouble.
After a glance that said, there's no way you're not going to back out , Jake started walking toward the water, pulling his t-shirt over his head as he went.
It really was unfair. I couldn't just take off a layer and not feel naked. Guys had the upper hand in situations like this.
Yeah, because there were tons of situations like this.
Not to mention I was one hundred percent sure my body was not as ogle-able as his. If I wasn't mistaken—and even in this near dark situation, I was pretty sure I
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