Page 9 of One Small Spark (Love in Sunshine #4)

SEVEN

WREN

I need air. Something is wrong with me. My lungs refuse to fully commit to their job.

I walk through the back of the bakery, past our industrial ovens and massive refrigerators, until I’m out the door and in the alley.

I just need a second to process this new information, take a breath, and then forget about it forever.

Except, I can’t. How can I when Callahan himself is in the alley, tossing broken-down cardboard boxes into the giant blue recycling bin we share.

No. Our businesses share them. We don’t share anything.

He looks over and catches me staring. Normally, this results in a smirk. Most things I do result in his smirk, but staring especially. He has an uncanny knack for catching me, and it always results in that curl along his lips.

Not this time. Today, he looks stricken, like the sight of me makes him…I don’t know what. I’m not a mind-reader. Alarmed, maybe.

He stops chucking cardboard into the bin and stalks closer. “Are you okay?”

Ugh. His deep voice isn’t supposed to be all tender and gentle. Not when I’m weirding out over him .

“I’m fine.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I just needed some fresh air.”

We’re going to ignore the fact that I’m standing feet away from the trash bins, and the delicious but powerful smells from the Mexican restaurant farther down the street make the air here anything but pristine.

He takes another, more tentative step closer. “Are you sure? You seem out of sorts.”

What is this? Callahan, concerned about me? I must have stepped through a portal into a parallel universe where he’s actually a decent guy.

I tilt my chin higher. “This is how I always look.”

“No, it isn’t. Usually, you’ve got more spark in your eyes. Today, you look…” He pauses to examine me like I’m a piece of art. Or a crime scene. “You’re upset. Confused, maybe. I want to say afraid.”

I snort. “I am not afraid of you.”

“I know.”

His soft smile makes my stomach tumble as easily as if he’d tossed me into that stupid bin. We don’t do this. We don’t get perceptive about each other and go digging around in each other’s heads. We don’t talk about anything real.

Not anymore.

The fact that we used to spins through my mind so fast I’m dizzy with it. Before I heard what he said about me. Before he stole an investor out from under Blackbird’s. We used to be?—

“What is that?” He stalks closer, his brows furrowed like a storm cloud descended over us. “Did someone do this to you? Who?”

That “Who?” sends a shiver down my spine.

He gets right into my space and gently takes me by the elbow. It stays warm in the bakery, so I only wear T-shirts at work even through the winter months. His light touch on my skin is pure heat in the chill fall air. That warmth radiates along my arm, raising goosebumps like an electric current.

He’s staring at my bare upper arm as if he’s ready to go nuclear on someone.

I finally look down to see what he’s so worked up about and have to stop myself from laughing. I’ve had that bruise approximately six hours. “Stop hulking out. Nobody gave that to me. I did it.”

His gaze collides with mine, all protective and warm and ready to defend me from unknown assailants, and I don’t hate it.

Something is definitely wrong with me.

“I was carrying a tray of pies from the back room, and I slammed into the doorjamb like a klutz. Relax.”

He nods, and his worry seems to lessen, but I don’t like the fire lingering in his eyes.

Or…I like it too much. I don’t know anymore. I need to shut this down. I came out here to stop thinking about Callahan, and now I’m thinking about him more. In worse and worse scenarios.

He ticks his head to the side. “Sorry. The bruise looks like…”

He doesn’t explain, but it’s easy to guess where his overactive imagination went. It’s the right angle for a too-firm grip.

“Trying to be a protective romance book hero, are you?” I ask.

The flames in his eyes burn brighter. “Is that what you want?”

“No.” I scoff, but it’s weak at best. “Is that what you want?”

Why am I even asking? I don’t care what he wants.

Or, honestly, what I want if it has anything to do with Callahan.

It’s the stupid book club. Intertwining him and romance has turned me upside down.

The sky is green, the villain is the hero, and the guy I thought hated me keeps staring at my mouth like he’s just waiting for permission .

His fingers are still wrapped around my elbow. I should shake him off. Tell him to get lost. Do anything other than stand here inches away from him, staring into his eyes, and letting him touch me so tenderly.

“You don’t want to know what I want.” It’s not a warning so much as…regret.

Whatever is happening makes no sense. I don’t like Callahan. He doesn’t like me. The back and forth between us is based on dislike and resentment, not the fire currently coursing through my veins and turning my body into searing lava.

“I’d probably be disgusted.” My voice is way too breathy to give that sentence any kick.

His brown eyes darken. “Probably.”

He doesn’t elaborate. That’s unhelpful. I need to know what he wants like I need to draw in my next breath.

“You should tell me. So we can be sure I’d hate it.”

His eyes spark, and he takes a step closer. Instinctively, I move a step back, but that puts my shoulders against Blackbird’s door. He rests the hand not holding my elbow against the doorframe.

I swallow hard. Might even gulp. He’s leaning .

“You wouldn’t hate it.” His voice is so sinfully smooth, I want to drizzle it over my waffles and eat it up.

“I hate everything you do.”

His mouth tips up on one side, his gaze taking its time roving over my face like a caress. When it lands on my lips, he locks in. “Do you?”

“So much.” The words are barely out before I snap.

I crush myself against him, my hands going around the back of his neck to pull him down so our mouths can crash together. The instant we connect, he’s kissing me back, pressing just as hard as I am. Finally .

A voice somewhere in my addled brain asks why we haven’t been doing this forever. Didn’t we know we were meant to? We should kiss all the time, every day.

His hands course up my back, pinning me to him. Mine have differing goals, one exploring the crest of his shoulder while the other twines in the hair at the back of his neck. It’s just long enough for me to get a fistful, holding his head in place.

I love how messy his hair is. I love that I’m messing it up more.

But then we open up to each other, and my thoughts shatter into a million pieces drifting around me like fairy dust. Shockwaves dance along my skin straight up my spine and down to my toes. I want to get closer, mold myself to him. I would fuse myself to Callahan if I could.

Time does this weird thing where it both crawls by so I can savor every moment but flies so fast I can’t keep up. I should be memorizing every touch. I should luxuriate in the experience. All I really know is, this kiss should never end.

Callahan slows, losing the frantic energy until he’s gently exploring. Caressing. Nipping at my lower lip. His hands splay across my back, locking me to him as if he’ll never let me go. This is where we live now. The alley is our home.

I don’t have a huge amount of experience in this area, but I’ve never had a first kiss like this. I’ve never had any kiss like this, altering my brain chemistry like a drug. A delicious, free, highly addictive drug. Sign me up for a lifetime supply.

He starts to pull away, but he’s not in charge. I growl like a tiny animal, drawing him to me again. I bite him back for his insolence. As if we’re ever stopping.

I slide my tongue against his, desperate to drive him just as crazy as he makes me. He groans, and I silently cheer for my success. Except, him going crazy just makes me lose control that much more. A victory for us both, then .

He cradles my face in his hands, his soft kisses turning feather-light.

Incidentally, those are just as capable of devastating me as the frenzied ones. On a multiple-choice survey of Callahan’s kisses, I want All of the above .

His mouth leaves mine, but he presses one last, lingering kiss there as if he doesn’t want to stop, after all. The chill air in the alley sweeps over my lips. I sigh, wishing I could hit Snooze and get five more minutes. When I finally open my eyes, it’s to find his staring down at me.

Callahan looks like he’s ready to dive back in for round two. Hard same.

But then I catch the smirk teasing along the edges of his mouth. I know that smirk too well.

“Did you hate that?” he asks.

The curl of his lips and the smack of pride in his voice snap me back to my senses. I drop my hands from him, knocking his away from where they were holding me in the process. He takes a step back, probably out of self-preservation.

This is the same guy who said all those rude things about me. Who turned an investor away from my family’s business only to go work with him, himself. Who gets off on riling me up and leaving me feeling like a fool.

Just like right now.

From the romance book hero lean to the kiss that left me legitimately mindless, was this all just a way to one-up me? I think I might be sick.

I want to respond in a totally mature way and scream, “I hate you !” in his face. Instead, a pathetic sound comes out of me like a wounded animal. I find the door handle and barrel back inside before I can discover the depths of humiliation in store for me when it comes to this man.

I’m pretty sure the limit doesn’t exist.