Page 56 of The Candle Palace (Jamison Valley 6)
I smiled and looked him up and down. “You’re in jeans.”
“I wear them every day.”
His legs were long and lean. They went on forever until the hems brushed the tops of his brown, square-toed cowboy boots. His shirt was baggy, a size too big. It hid the roped muscles of his arms and the rigid planes of his chest.
Maybe this was why most women overlooked Milo. He didn’t flaunt or showcase the body beneath the clothes. He was just . . . Milo.
Humble. Unassuming. Pure.
Sexy.
“I’ve never seen you in jeans before.” I blushed, remembering his reaction to seeing me in jeans. “They look . . . good.”
He chuckled. “Want to see the back of my head?”
“Yes, please.”
With a quick grin, he spun in a slow circle, his arms rising as he turned. He might be hiding the sculpted torso and chiseled arms, but those jeans did wondrous things for his ass. Which confirmed my suspicions—the women of Prescott, Montana, were blind.
Their loss.
Milo planted his hands on his hips when he was done with the turn. “So, what would you like to talk about first? What that crying jag was about? Or why you’ve been off all week?”
Neither. I sighed. “Maybe we should sit.”
He nodded and followed me into the living room, glancing around as he walked. “Nice place.”
“Thanks.” I sat on the couch, giving him plenty of room to sit by my side. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Good as new.”
It was obvious I was stalling, but he didn’t rush me. There was probably a right way to go about this conversation, but the only thing that came to my mind was “I got kissed.”
“Uh . . . yeah. I was there.”
“Not by you.” The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees as Milo’s frame turned to ice. His fists balled on his knees. “Amber told me to take a week of vacation, I told you that. Well, after, I went to the locker room to get a jacket I’d left in there. I was coming out and Dr. Vernon cornered me.”
Milo’s jaw cracked as he ground his molars together. His fists, if possible, became even tighter. I’d never seen knuckles so white. “He kissed you?”
“He kissed me. I’m so sorry.”
“Did you want him to kiss you?”
“No, absolutely not.” I grimaced. “Never.”
“They why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I stood there,” I confessed. “I didn’t fight back or push him away or even scream. I just stood there and let him kiss me. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Oh, Sara.” Milo’s arms wrapped around me like ropes. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I feel violated. It was just a kiss but . . .”
Milo held me tighter. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was scared you’d stab Dr. Vernon to death with the needles from your sharps container.”
He didn’t think my joke was funny.
