The Proposal & Solid Soul - Brenda Jackson [12]
“Do you want me to follow you there, Jason?”
No, he wanted her in the same vehicle with him. “We can ride in my truck. Your car will be fine parked here until we return.”
“Okay.”
As he escorted her toward the exit, she glanced up at him. “What about your hot water heater?”
“I haven’t picked it out yet but that’s fine since I know the brand I want.”
“All right.”
Together they walked out of the store toward his truck. It was a beautiful day in May but when he felt her shiver beside him, he figured a beautiful day in Savannah would be a day in the eighties. Here in Denver if they got sixty-something degree weather in June they would be ecstatic.
He took his jacket off and placed it around her shoulders. She glanced up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He smiled. “Yes, I did. I don’t want you to get cold on me.” She was wearing a pair of black slacks and a light blue cardigan sweater. As always she looked ultrafeminine.
And now she was wearing his jacket. They continued walking and when they reached his truck she glanced up and her gaze connected with his and he could feel electricity sparking to life between them. She looked away quickly, as if she’d been embarrassed that their attraction to each other was so obvious.
“Do you want your jacket back now?” she asked softly.
“No, keep it on. I like seeing you in it.”
She blushed again and at that moment he got the most ridiculous notion that perhaps this sort of intense attraction between two people was sort of new to Bella. He wouldn’t be surprised to discover that she had several innocent bones in her body; enough to shove him in another direction rather quickly. But for some reason he was staying put.
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Why do you like seeing me in it?”
“Because I do. And because it’s mine and you’re in it.”
He wasn’t sure if what he’d said made much sense or if she was confused even more. But what he was sure about was that he was determined to find out just how much Bella Bostwick knew about men. And what she didn’t know he was going to make it his business to teach her.
BELLA WAS CONVINCED there was nothing more compelling than the feel of wearing the jacket belonging to a man whose very existence represented true masculinity. It permeated her with his warmth, his scent and his aura in every way. She was filled with an urge to get more, to know more and to feel more of Jason Westmoreland. And as she stared at him through the car’s window as he pulled out his cell phone to make arrangements for their lunch, she couldn’t help but feel the hot rush of blood in her veins while heat churned deep down inside of her.
And there lay the crux of her problem. As beguiling as the feelings taking over her senses, making ingrained curiosity get the best of her, she knew better than to step beyond the range of her experience. That range didn’t extend beyond what the nuns at the private Catholic schools she’d attended most of her life had warned her about. It was a range good girls just didn’t go beyond.
Jason was the type of man women dreamed about. He was what fantasies were made of. She watched him ease his phone back into the pocket of his jeans, walk around the front of his truck to get in. He was the type of man a woman would love to snuggle up with on a cold Colorado winter night…especially the kind her parents and uncle had said she would have to endure. Just the thought of being with him in front of a roaring fire that blazed in a fireplace would be an unadulterated fantasy come true for any woman…. And her greatest fear.
“You’re comfortable?” he asked, placing a wide-brimmed Stetson on his head.
She glanced over at him and she held his gaze for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.