Page 23 of It’s Only Love (Citrus Pines #1)

As the week went on, Dean’s temper worsened.

Every day he had to watch Christy as she sauntered around in tiny, revealing outfits all designed to make him desperate to get his hands on her curvy little body.

Which he obviously couldn’t do. Okay, he didn’t have to watch her, but he couldn’t exactly walk around with his eyes shut all the time, could he?

Each day that they arrived at the house, she greeted Beau like he was her knight in shining armor, sent forth to rescue her from the villainous renovations.

And she treated Dean like Beau’s dim-witted servant who smelled awful, had a lazy eye and no teeth.

She continually asked for Beau’s opinion on what to do on the house and ignored any suggestions Dean made which infuriated him.

Why did she care so much about what Beau thought?

And why was Dean’s opinion not good enough?

And don’t even get him started on how much she and Beau continually flirted with and teased each other.

They had such an easy relationship, like they had known each other for years, which although technically they had, they didn’t know each other.

She had known Dean the same amount of time and he could barely get two words out of her.

Even now she and Beau were whispering away together, and Dean could feel his anger rising.

Fine! He was jealous! Although he knew getting to know her wasn’t a good idea, he couldn’t stop the need to know more about her from growing.

He wanted to know if she forgave him for his stupid adolescent behavior.

And what did she think of him now? What had happened between her and her father, why had she run away, and – just – what made her tick?

He wanted to get inside her head, break it apart and bathe in the pieces until he was fully immersed in her.

Today the heat was worse than usual which made his temper even shorter.

Christy said she was going out to get more supplies.

He was grateful for that, he needed a break from drooling over her so he could actually focus on doing some work.

Idiot that he was, he offered to go with her, and when she said she didn’t need his help, he had to bite his tongue to hold in a retort.

His sexual frustration had been coiling inside him, looking for a way out, preferably with her in bed but that couldn’t happen, so it was trying to slip out in other ways.

Like nearly snapping at her, because that would have really helped them bond .

Not . He stood on the porch and watched her leave, round hips swaying to her own beat as Beau sidled up next to him.

“So, how long do you think it’ll be before you crack and ask her out?” Beau asked, smirking .

“What?” Dean snapped, some of that frustration easing.

Beau laughed. “Damn, she’s got you worked up, that’s for sure. Never seen you so tense.”

“You’re talking shit.”

Beau fixed him with a pointed stare. “Dude, your compass has been pointing north for the last week, if you catch my drift. It’s getting difficult to pretend I’m not seeing it, so just ask her out already.”

Dean felt himself blush for the first time ever and he gritted his teeth. “I can’t.”

“I don’t mind, we’re totally just friends now, you have my blessing.”

Dean felt guilty that he hadn’t even thought about that. “Thanks, but I can’t,” he repeated.

Beau frowned at him. “You can’t?”

Dean shook his head, the motion clipped and watched as realization dawned on Beau.

“Shit, Taylor cock-blocked you, didn’t she?”

Dean nodded again and Beau clapped him on the back, the corners of his mouth twitching, clearly fighting a smile.

“Aw, man, that’s rough. So, I guess I should stop flirting with her just to piss you off then, huh?”

“You son of a–” Dean leapt at him and Beau hooted, ducking out of the way and running past him and back into the house.

Dean was hot on his heels. Beating the shit out of Beau would definitely ease some of his tension.

He ran after him and tackled him to the ground, fist pulled back ready to give Beau a dead arm when his phone rang.

“Saved by the bell!” Beau laughed. Dean flipped him off, then punched him for good measure, which just made the jerk laugh harder .

Dean rummaged in his pocket for his cell and answered. “Iris Motors.”

“Dean, it’s Christy. I’ve, uh, had a problem with my car again and I need your help.” Her sweet voice crackled over the line.

Finally she needed him. Not Beau, him .

For the first time all week, Dean felt his mood brighten.

*

As Dean’s truck pulled up and she saw the massive grin on his face, Christy’s heart sank.

Here he comes, all smug because I need him to bail me out.

Why do I have to have such an old car? Oh, right because some dickhead pretended to love me and ran off with all my money so I can’t afford a new one .

Her mood darkened even further at the thought of Douchebag Alfie.

And why does Dean have to work at the only garage in town?

Since the first day he turned up at the house and was all snappy when she asked him about the garbage disposal, she had purposely tried to avoid him.

That way she wouldn’t have to deal with his hot and cold attitude anymore.

Christy may have tried to avoid speaking to him all week, but her eyes didn’t get the memo.

She couldn’t stop staring at him. The way his muscles bunched when he moved, the way he wiped sweat off his forehead with his tanned forearms. It always seemed to happen in slow motion, like a Diet Coke ad.

And let’s not forget his jeans tightening against his pert ass whenever he bent over.

Her eyes practically begged him to have his way with her all week.

As he got out of the truck, she looked him over.

His light gray t-shirt pulling tight against his chest and biceps.

He looked gooood in faded blue jeans too.

She forced herself to look away and rearrange her features so he couldn’t see the “please touch me!” plastered across her face.

He managed to look as good in casual clothes as he had in his formal shirt and slacks the other night.

He walked over to her, practically swaggering, and stopped in front of her, grinning.

His dimples on display, stealing her breath.

“I’m so glad you called,” he said huskily.

She looked at him confused. “You’re glad I broke down?”

His smile dipped slightly as he realized what he said, and he looked sheepish.

“No, I meant I’m glad you called me when you needed help.”

She stared at him, why was he glad? Because he got to swoop in and save the day and feel really good about himself? Like he didn’t already. God, she hated the sexy bastard!

“So, where’s your exhaust?” he asked, looking back at the road.

It turned out Beau had been right the other day, it was looking a little low, because it had been hanging right off.

She should’ve checked it. She could have avoided this situation but she completely forgot about it and now she was at Dean’s mercy.

She led him over to the passenger side of her car and opened the door, pointing at the seat.

He stooped down, placing his hand on the roof and looking inside.

His scent wafted over her and she inhaled it greedily, her stomach flipping.

It was so powerful, so masculine and so…

Dean . It nearly had her panting like a dog in heat.

She took advantage of his averted gaze to really look at him.

He was so tall. Even stooped down, she still had to look up at him.

He ran a hand through his blond hair, the sun bouncing off golden strands.

He turned to face her and she quickly looked away.

“Christy, why have you put the seatbelt around it?” he asked, his tone laced with humor.

She snapped her eyes back to him and saw he was clearly fighting a smile.

She looked at the exhaust sitting in the passenger seat.

It had fallen off not far into her journey and not knowing what to do, she picked it up.

Thankfully, it hadn’t been too hot to touch and she placed it on the passenger seat for safekeeping until he arrived. She stared back at him dumbfounded.

“Well, I didn’t want it to fall forward,” she said, like it was obvious.

He burst out laughing, his laughter deep and rich.

His whole face lit up with amusement and he looked gorgeous, so happy and carefree.

Unfortunately, it was at her expense, once again.

He laughed so hard that she could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes and he slapped his thigh.

She felt her cheeks darken with embarrassment and she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling defensive.

“Are you done?” she huffed.

He stood upright, taking in her expression and his laughter subsided into chuckles. He wiped his eyes. “Sorry, darlin’ but that is the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

She felt her embarrassment rising, and tears stung the backs of her eyes.

Why did this always happen around him? She spun away before he could see her, no way would she make this worse by crying in front of him.

Between him and Douchebag Alfie she had enough humiliation to last a lifetime, she was so done with men making her feel stupid.

“Okay, I’ll just hook her up to my truck and I’ll tow her to the garage. I can fix her up while you wait, shouldn’t take too long. You can go and sit in the truck out of the heat if you want.”