Can’t Hurry Love by Nadine Millard (primary phonics books .txt) 📕

damned if that simple action didn’t have his groin stirring to life.

“Excuse me?” she snapped. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“Well,” he began casually, wrapping one arm around her waist and clasping one of her hands in his much larger one. She didn’t seem to notice. “You did completely ignore me when I tried to ask you back there. Before you ran away.”

Her eyes narrowed. She probably thought it made her look intimidating. It just made her look cute and spitting mad like a feral kitten. He knew better than to tell her that though.

“I did not run away,” she hissed. “I was dancing with someone I wanted to dance with.”

He nodded to acknowledge the hit. She didn’t seem to realise that she was dancing now, too.

Again, he didn’t feel it was necessary to point that out.

“Well, maybe you don’t owe me anything,” he said gently and risked pulling her a little closer. “But I know I owe you something. An apology…”

Beth opened her mouth. Probably to argue.

“…and an explanation.”

That seemed to bring her up short.

She gazed up at him looking half suspicious, half enthralled.

And suddenly Josh’s throat was dry. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell her the truth, that much he knew.

It was too personal, not something he ever planned to admit to anyone. The reason he’d moved here in the first place.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, because he needed to say something. And because it was true.

If that call hadn’t come the night of their impromptu date, Josh knew he’d have called Beth. Probably that same night. That was how smitten he’d been. So, maybe it was providence that Ellen had called his cell while he was typing out a text to Beth. Maybe it was a sign that he should leave well enough alone.

It wasn’t as if he could have anything serious with Beth. Or with anyone, really. Chicago and Elaine had made sure of that. Had made it so he could compete in commitment-phobia at the Olympics.

Beth shrugged, but she was holding herself so stiffly that the gesture didn’t come across as casually as she’d probably wanted it to. “It’s not a big deal, Dr. Larson,” she said with a casualness that sounded a little brittle. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. “We had a couple of drinks. Hardly something to still be talking about a year later.”

With that, she removed herself from his arms and hurried across the room and out through the opened French doors before he could even blink.

Josh reminded himself that he should leave well enough alone. Reminded himself that a casual fling with the Carroway girl wasn’t an option. And something serious with her was so far off the table it was practically back in Chicago.

He told himself all of this.

And then he followed her anyway.

Chapter Three

“If you’re not still thinking about it a year later, why do you ignore me and avoid me every chance you get?”

Beth was seriously tempted to just run again.

The Beckford place was huge, at least matching Big Sky Ranch for its size. But while she could probably get around at home with a blindfold on, she couldn’t do it here.

Plenty of lighting shone out here on the patio where table and chairs were dotted around, though they were all empty at the moment. She and Josh were alone out here, and the music from inside could still be heard at a lower volume.

But beyond the patio was darkness and tempting as it was, she wasn’t a complete idiot. Although, to be fair, her reaction to the man who’d followed her would suggest otherwise. He wasn’t wrong, either. That was the kicker. She’d spent twelve months angry with a guy who hadn’t called after spending approximately three hours in her company.

That made her beyond pathetic. It made her borderline crazy.

Everyone who knew Beth knew about her adoration for all things romantic, but even she could admit that she was overreacting when it came to Josh Larson. It had just seemed so special to her. So different. So real.

But it hadn’t been. And she was done making a fool of herself about it.

Straightening her shoulders, she turned to face him, knowing that, when she did, her heart would flutter, and her toes would curl. It was inevitable. And pathetic.

“Maybe I just don’t like you all that much,” she sniped.

His crooked grin should come with a health warning. It was grossly unfair. He didn’t deserve it.

“Maybe,” he acknowledged. “Or maybe it’s because you know it was more than just a couple of drinks.”

He stepped closer, and she had to stand her ground. There was no way she was going to budge and let him think his proximity was affecting her.

“Maybe it’s because we also had a couple of pretty explosive kisses.”

Beth’s heart thumped wildly at his words. The memory of his demanding lips against her own shot through her mind, and her whole body shuddered.

This was the type of thing she’d read about.

The type of thing she wanted so desperately.

But he doesn’t.

The voice of reason, quiet though it might be, reared its head and gave Beth the strength to arch her brow in an imitation of Brooke’s coolness from earlier.

“Did we?” she asked, trying to make herself sound haughty like Zoe. Instead, she sounded like a frog with tonsilitis, but she ploughed on valiantly anyway.

His grin was proof enough that he wasn’t fooled. She was about as sophisticated as the back of a horse, and they both knew it.

“You don’t remember?”

His voice dropped as he stepped closer to her, and she was suddenly surrounded by him: the scent of… the height of him… the breadth of those shoulders…

She tilted her head back, trapped in his ice blue gaze. But there was nothing icy about it. They blazed with a fire that scorched her.

“N-no,” she stammered, hating that her voice was giving her away.

“Then we should jog your memory.”

His smile was sin itself and before Beth could get her brain to engage, he