“I thought you liked her?”
“I do. Which is why I’mnotplanning to lay any groundwork.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
Backing away, Zane shook his head. “Not everyone wants what you have.”
He found Freya back in her bedroom, folding a load of laundry on the neatly made bed. “Hey,” he said.
Flipping around, she caught the edge of the bed to steady herself. “Hi,” she grinned.
“Sorry, I, uh, should have warned you, that beer was about eight percent.”
Nodding, she grinned even bigger. “A bit late, thanks though. My head is officially swimming. I’m a total lightweight.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded toward the exit. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”
She strolled close and caught him by the waistband before he could back into the hall. Staring down, as if distracted by what she’d found, she lifted the edge of his shirt and traced her fingers over his abs. Holy shit, this was so not helpful.If he added caryophellene, that might add an earthy, citrus undertone. He breathed slowly in and out, taming things while he convinced them both this was a terrible idea.
Stilling her hands, he backed away. “Fresh air,” he muttered.
Nodding, she closed her eyes. “Worthless virgin alarm,” she muttered.
“What? Freya, are you a virgin?”
She giggled. “You’re cute.” Strolling ahead, she reached the front door and nodded for him to follow. He was in way over his head.
The evening breeze washed over his skin as he stepped outside, the lingering scents from the heat of the day fresh on the air. Swaying with the wind, her blue skirt shifted over her curves with each step. She walked to the middle of the front field and turned toward him. “Well? Are you coming?”
Shit, he shook his head and caught up to her. She held her hand out, and he stupidly took it, walking side by side across the field. As they neared the bench that overlooked the mountains beyond, no more than dark blue paper cutout silhouettes against the sunset purple glow, Freya spun in his arms, nearly knocking herself over with her momentum.
Steadying them both, he held onto her waist.
Eyes searching his, her lips parted, and he was lost. Leaning down, he took her mouth, exploring the soft velvet of her tongue, the spicy-sweet of her breath mixing with his.
A soft whimper passed her lips.
Her hands gripped his shoulders and she arched against him.
Whoa, shit.He pulled back, stunned at himself. At his recklessness. “Sorry,” he whispered on a breathless exhale.
Her mouth opened and closed, then she surprised the hell out of him again, muttering, “My baby cousin is getting married.” Dropping his hand, she crossed to the bench, sat, and leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees.
“I’m sorry,” he winced as he sat down next to her.
“I have to fly down to the wedding and prove that I’m not avoiding them. That I didn’t leave the country because I was embarrassed.”
“Why would you be embarrassed?”
“Last time they saw me, I was pulling aRunaway Bride.” Grimacing, he felt the regret radiating off her.
“Mom thinks if I give them a piece of my work as a wedding gift and bring a date, I’ll show them I made the right choice and demonstrate how amazing my life is.”
“Why does it matter what they think?”
“I don’t know. It’s stupid. Itdoesn’tmatter. But it does. I’ve been engaged three times. On that side of the family, they’re all married and having kids and are doing what they’re supposed to do. But Freya’s the oddball as usual. Can’t seem to get her act together.”
“Seriously? From what it sounds like, you’ve been brave enough to live the adventure most people only dream about. You wanted to paint, so you made it happen, and you’re making a career out of it. Yeah, you’ve been engaged, but you didn’t settle when it wasn’t right. You’re what, thirty? There’s no rush to have kids, if you decide you want them. If you don’t want all that, there’s nothing wrong with choosing the path that appeals, even if it’s not white picket fences and two-point-five children.”
