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“I’m not,” he ground out.
She let out a laugh that even startled herself. “You could have fooled me. Look, I don’t care, all right? You don’t owe me any explanations. We never went on a date or even… kissed.” Shoot! Why did she have to bring that up? What was she thinking! Agatha sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes, then opened them again. “It’s good—you dating. I don’t know why it surprised me. But it’s fine.”
His left eye twitched. “Charlotte isn’t my girlfriend, and we’re certainly not dating.”
“I’ve been down this road before. I don’t need your life story or what this woman may or may not mean to you. I just need a key so I can get back inside.”
Zeke’s expression faltered as his focus shifted to the cabin. “The key?”
“Yeah. I need your spare. I forgot that I didn’t have mine when I locked up.”
He sighed as he pulled out a keyring from his pocket. Trudging up the steps, Zeke fiddled with the ring until he found the key he was looking for and then he shoved it into the door.
The knob clicked. He retrieved his key. Then he turned to face her. “About earlier.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even worry about it. I took a chance, and it didn’t pan out. Honestly, I should have known better.” She brushed past him to get inside, but she wasn’t fast enough.
His hand grasped onto hers, tugging her away from the door. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You know…”
Zeke’s brows pulled together, creasing between them. “You’re going to have to enlighten me.”
It took a great deal more strength than she realized to be able to say what she wanted to say next. Agatha pulled free of him and met him square in the eyes. “You should probably leave now. Whether or not you’ve labeled it as a relationship, it’s clear something is going on between you and Charlotte. I’m not going to come between that.”
Her hand tightened around the doorknob, and she pushed it open. As quickly as she could, she shut the door, but it stopped with a thud. A boot protruded into her safe haven, and she peered out the crack in the open doorway. “Kindly remove your boot from the door so I can shut it.”
“For the last time, I’m not with Charlotte.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not some delicate flower—”
“And I pity the fool who doesn’t have the brains to realize you are the furthest thing from a flower there is.”
Her head snapped back. “I beg your pardon.”
He nudged the door open a little farther as he inched closer. “You’re not delicate, Agatha.”
She didn’t know whether to be offended by that statement or simply curious.
Again, he got closer, pushing the door open enough that she had to step backward. Her heart fluttered wildly, not out of fear but something else entirely. Agatha sidestepped as he entered the cabin and somehow found herself against the closed door with Zeke hovering a few feet away.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to go on a date with someone when all you can think about is someone else?” His voice was low, husky, like the purr of a large mountain cat.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her fingers sought for purchase on the smooth wood door. Throat painfully dry, Agatha simply stared up at the man who had managed to get her full attention.
His hand pressed firmly against the door right above her shoulder as he trapped her with his fiery gaze. “Do you understand how painful it is to know that to act on certain feelings would spell assured disaster, and the only way to steer clear is to avoid that person at all costs?”
She blinked rapidly. This was not where she thought this conversation was going.
Logic and irrationality battled so deftly that she couldn’t gauge which one was more correct. Zeke couldn’t possibly be talking about her. He’d been nicer lately, which was probably why she’d suddenly found herself so much more attracted to him.
Zeke cupped her chin, his eyes scanning her face as if he were able to drink her in. “You want to know what I was thinking when you showed up at that club?”
“No,” she whispered.
That seemed to give him pause. Ironically, she’d uttered the word without realizing she’d said it out loud. Agatha swallowed hard and pulled her head away enough that she was no longer staring into his eyes. “You made me feel like a fool today, Zeke. I still feel a little hungover from meeting a woman who was clearly nothing like me. If you have a type—”
“You’re nothing like my type, Agatha.”
