Leah froze at the unexpected seriousness in his voice. “Jason . . .”
“Do you want dessert?” he asked abruptly.
Leah closed her eyes to ward off the conversational whiplash. “We’re talking about dessert now?”
“You used to have a sweet tooth.”
She still did, but right now, food was just about the last thing on her mind. “No, I’m fine. Unless you want something.”
Jason’s smile was quick and hungry. “Oh, I want something, Red. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped wanting.” He pushed back his chair, stood up, threw some bills onto the table, and stretched out his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
The restaurant Jason had chosen was just a few doors down from the B and B where they were staying, but although the walk was only five minutes, it was five long minutes along the beach.
As in, Leah McHale was taking an unintentional moonlight beach stroll with Jason Rhodes.
She shoved her fists into the pockets of her cardigan as she kept up as quick of a pace as the sand would allow, lest he get any hand-holding ideas. But then, this was Jason. He didn’t hold hands so much as screw you, both literally and figuratively.
Jason held the front door to their hotel open for her, and wordlessly, Leah preceded him in. It was early yet, so a handful of people sat in the lobby, quietly sipping cocktails and laughing.
“Drink?” Jason asked quietly.
She shook her head. “I like to get a good eight hours of sleep before a job.”
His smile was fleeting. “I know.”
It had always been a thing with them. As wedding photographers, they’d quite often shared the same schedule: jam-packed weekends with slower Mondays and Tuesdays dedicated to long hours of photo editing and printing. And yet, even with the overlap in their schedules, they’d never quite gotten the sleep thing down.
Jason was a night owl, preferring to stay up into the wee hours, regardless of what time his wake-up call was later, and then crashing the next day as needed.
Leah liked her routine; she got eight hours as consistently as she could.
But if anything had been able to tempt Leah away from her routine, it had definitely been this man with his talented hands and wicked mouth.
“You can stay and hang out,” Leah said, nodding at the direction of the cozy reception area.
He said nothing as he followed her down the hallway toward their rooms—their connecting rooms.
She’d tried not to let it be a big deal, but suddenly with the safety of daytime behind them and with the warm buzz of her wine flowing through her veins, the shared wall suddenly felt like a very big deal.
Leah paused in front of her room, digging her key out of her purse. “Well, good night,” she said, her hand already extending toward the lock.
Long, warm fingers closed around her wrist, and Leah’s breath caught. “Damn it, Rhodes—”
His eyes were searching her face. “Am I alone here, Red? Am I the only one feeling . . . something?”
She pulled her hand free and turned to face him, trying to ignore how close he was—trying to ignore that she’d only need to lean forward the slightest bit to put her lips to his.
“I’m not saying the chemistry’s not there,” she said carefully. “That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is the problem, Red?”
Leah felt a tantrum start to burn low in her belly. She’d been willing enough to play along in his effort to ignore their history in the interest of professionalism, but his playing dumb was more than she could handle.
She moved closer, although this time it was in simmering anger rather than white-hot want. “My problem is that I thought we had something, Jason. I realize we weren’t exchanging rings and love notes. I know we never agreed to exclusivity. But I thought we were at least to the point of being honest to each other. If you wanted to sleep around, why not just tell me?”
“You didn’t give me a chance to tell you anything.”
She let out a harsh little laugh. “Right. This is my fault.”
“I’m just saying you’re pretty quick to play the victim card for someone who didn’t care enough to get all the facts.”
Leah spread her hands out to the side. “All right. Let’s hear ’em. Let’s hear the facts.”
His gaze was hot with anger. “Sure. I’ll just spill my guts to the woman who walked away without a second glance.”
“Because you hurt me!” she burst out, her voice cracking. “You hurt me, Jason, and I couldn’t—I can’t—”
Leah’s head dipped forward in defeat, resting against the door, her eyes closing as she realized she didn’t know what she was trying to say. And even if she figured it out, she wasn’t at all sure she’d want to let Jason Rhodes into that part of her.
“You weren’t the only one that got burned that day,” he said, voice tense with anger. “You’re awfully high and mighty for someone who gave a guy the silent treatment. For a year.”
“Because we had nothing to say to each other.”