Page 42 of She's Like the Wind

I’d tried to get over Gage for months, and hadn’t been successful. Maybe if I spent time with another man….

CHAPTER 15

Gage

Ideclined Sloane’s offer to go to her place or ask her to come to mine. That wasn’t happening. Apparently, I was still hung up on Naomi.

Was it because I didn’t get closure? Was it because she was the one who said it was over? Or…did I feel for her more than I dared to admit?

I had no fucking idea!

Since I saw her at Saffron, I hadn’t slept. I hadn’t eaten. I was not able to focus on anything but the need to see her—ask her if she was sleeping with Jonah Fuckin’ Lamarre.

This shit needed to stop. It needed to end. I had work. I had reports to finish, permits to sign off on, and crew updates to approve.

But as soon as I could get away from work—and before I could talk myself out of it—I was halfwaydown Royal, pounding pavement like a man running from (or to?) ghosts.

Aire Noire came into view, its black-gold signage glowing soft above the door.

She’d changed the display window. Now it wasn’t a woman getting ready to pleasure herself—no, it was a continuation. This woman was laying back, her legs still parted, her hands on her breasts, covering the lace there—looking very much like a woman who’d just orgasmed.

It was just a mannequin, and I was waxing poetic about it.

I was losing my mind.

I opened the door and stepped in—the place, like always, was like sin dressed in satin…just like Naomi.

She was behind the counter, her back to me, locking the cash drawer. Her hair was up in a loose twist, neck bare, a silk camisole hugged her spine like a whisper.

The shop smelled like orange blossoms and something darker underneath. Sex? Or memory?

She didn’t turn when she spoke. “We’re closed,” she said in a sing-song manner.

I shut the door behind me and locked it.

She turned and gasped when she saw me.

“You with Jonah Lamarre now?” I demanded. No finesse. No polish. Nothing but raw jealousy.

She went still for half a breath—just enough for me to feel it like a blow to the chest.

“That’s none of your business,” she replied politely, her arms crossing.

“It is,” I growled, stepping forward. “You think you can let him touch you? Sit across from him, smiling like he…like he’s earned it?”

Her expression went from courteous anger to stone.

“I can let whoever I wanttouchme. What’s it to you?”

My hands were clenched into fists. It was an effort to not reach out to her, slam her body against mine and take…

“He’s not good enough for you,” I bit out.

“Really?” Her voice was fiery with sarcasm. But her eyes…fuck, her eyes were hurt.

It gutted me.

I should’ve walked away.