Harlequin Desire January 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 by Maisey Yates (inspirational books .TXT) 📗

that was full of papers. She didn’t have enough dishes or utensils to bother moving them. She had plenty of space in the kitchen that they could stay right there. She pulled out the paperwork and spread it out on the table, rifling through the sheets, but he had already walked out of the room. She heard the door shut, and a few moments later he was back.

“Found it.”

“How?”

“Logic. Experience,” he said. “Anyway. It’s fine now.”

“I should probably know where the water shut off is,” she said, still standing there holding the papers.

“I’ll show you afterward.” He got down underneath the sink, tools in hand, and began to dismember things.

“Can I hand you stuff?”

“Sure.”

They set up an assembly line, where he asked for things, and she handed them to him. When he was done, he would give it back, and she would put it on the table.

Things felt not quite so fraught. And it was easy for her to forget that earlier today had gone so horribly wrong.

“Come down here,” he said.

She started. “What?”

“I want to show you something.”

Slowly, cautiously, she knelt down beside him. It wasn’t him she was afraid of. It was herself. He wasn’t the one who knew why earlier was such a disaster, and he probably didn’t even…well, she hadn’t stayed to find out if he’d even been leaning in toward her. It was all in her head, that was the thing. So she resolutely got down next to him and made a valiant attempt at not breathing the same air, since that had caused her some serious problems earlier.

“What are you showing me?”

“I’m going to have you fit the pipe.”

“Oh…okay.”

He handed her a wrench. “Lean in and tighten it right here.”

She leaned in and she couldn’t help but breathe. And when she did…

When she did, she was overwhelmed by him.

Why did he have to smell so good? Why was he so compelling? She looked at the square line of his jaw, the straight blade of his nose. The intensity in those eyes. Those eyes that had always been so fascinating to her.

It had been a crush but now it couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be.

She still couldn’t breathe.

She looked down. But then… She could feel him looking at her, and she couldn’t keep herself from looking back.

And when she did, he was so close. His eyes were so intent on hers. She had run away earlier. And she had been smart to do that. She had needed to do that.

She should run. She should run. She should move away. Because this was wrong. And it was crazy. She was crazy.

And for some reason—anger, rebellion against what she was feeling—she didn’t run. Instead, she leaned forward.

Instead, she closed the distance between them.

She was going to prove, once and for all, that she did not want him.

This would disgust her.

It would burn all those feelings to the ground.

And for the first time in her life, Cricket’s lips touched another person’s.

Because she was sure she’d find that once she kissed him, once she took the mystery out of it all she’d be disgusted. She had to be, right? Because surely, surely, nature would take care of this and she’d recoil in horror when their mouths met.

As soon as her lips touched his, though, she knew she was wrong.

It was like a flash bomb had gone off inside of her stomach.

And Cricket ignited.

He moved, large, rough hands cupping her face, holding her steady as he consumed her. His whiskers were rough, his mouth hot. He smelled like heaven.

She was shaking. Guilt warred with desire as her mind went blank of everything. Of what she should be doing. Of who he was. Who she was. And what she suspected. It was all gone. There was nothing left but the intense sensation of being touched by him, kissed by him.

How had this happened?

How had she… How had she ended up desiring him?

You don’t know? As if it hasn’t been halfway to a crush all this time?

She’d been fascinated by him but she’d never called it that. She’d been interested in him, intrigued by him, but she’d never…

And then she’d found out about their parents and…and…she’d thought what she’d been feeling was something else.

She didn’t know anything.

She’d moved to this ranch convinced that she was finally figuring things out. Finally making a move toward having a life that she wanted. But here she was, drowning in confusion. Drowning in desire. A desire she had no business feeling. Not at all. Here she was, making the biggest mess of everything that she could possibly make.

She was less certain now than she’d been before. Less of anything, less of everything. And more too.

Jackson Cooper. This is Jackson Cooper.

And he’s probably your half brother.

She jerked herself away from him, gasping. “No.”

“Cricket, it’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to run away.”

“No,” she said. “I might.”

“You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

“It’s not you I’m afraid of.”

“What?”

“It’s me,” she said. And much to her horror, tears sprang to her eyes. And they started to fall before she could even consider holding them back. Cricket didn’t cry. And here she was, weeping like an inconsolable child in front of Jackson. He must think she was insane. She thought she was insane.

“What is it?”

“It’s us,” she said. “Jackson,” she said. “I think you might be my brother.”

CHAPTER SIX

Jackson was on his feet and halfway across the room as soon as that last word came out of Cricket’s mouth.

He didn’t know what the hell she was on, but she was wrong.

He knew that down to his soul.

He had a sister. He knew what that felt like. This did not feel brotherly at all. Not in the least. Absolutely nothing about what he felt for Cricket could fall under the heading of familial. She was a beguiling little minx who had essentially been a source of irritation for him for the last several years, and then had turned into a wholly irritating, and far too attractive, woman.

Then she’d