Free Ignited by Ruthie Knox Page B

looked at her, projecting annoyance, the challenge in his eyes made her nipples bead inside the shelf bra of her sports top.
    Roman wiped sweat off his forehead. His color was up, his chest heaving. “I can build a better fire than you,” he said.
    “One match?”
    “Anyone can build a one-match fire.”
    “You can do better? Oh, tell me you bought flint and steel at REI, and you can strike a fire off one of those key-chain things.”
    “Not flint and steel. I can start a friction fire.”
    “With just sticks? You cannot.”
    “I can.”
    “Do it, then.”
    “It’s a pain. I’m not going to do it just to show you.”
    “Do it,” she repeated. “Doitdoitdoitdoooooit.”
    “Does that actually work on people?”
    “You’d be surprised.”
    Roman stood up and reached for the camp towel he’d left on the bench next to her. She could feel the heat coming off him, all those charged particles in the air between them. He bumped her with his bare knee, and she looked at the black hair on his legs, the runnels of sweat.
    “Sorry,” he said. “I’m disgusting.”
    She wanted him just like this, though. Braced over her with his arms trembling, his heat sinking into her skin. One delirious, stupid, ecstatic glide, and she’d have him inside her, and she could stop all this mental lusting. This weird obsession with Roman and his Roman-ness.
    Not that he’d go for it, even if he were available. The man probably had sex in the dark, beneath a top sheet, with his eyes closed. And wiped his girlfriend down with a damp washcloth afterward.
    Petty, Ashley.
    She knew him better than that by now. Knew how he kissed.
    Knew that he cared.
    “If you can start a fire with friction, I’ll make you dinner,” she said.
    “You cook?”
    “Not on a stove, but I’m the best campfire cook you’ll ever meet.”
    “Will you cook whatever I want?”
    “No meat. Otherwise, yes.”
    His lips compressed, and something happened to his cheek that might have been a dimple, except it was completely impossible that Roman had a dimple. “How long do I have?”
    “Take as long as you want. We’ve got nothing else going on today except visiting with Michael and Stanley.”
    “They own this place?”
    “Yep.”
    “What are they, gay?”
    “No, they’re brothers,” she explained. “They’re from here. Stanley says—”
    From inside the Airstream, the chorus of “Eye of the Tiger” began playing at full blast. Mitzi calling.
    “Your phone works here?” he asked.
    “Obviously. Doesn’t yours?”
    “No.”
    When Ashley had taken a shift driving yesterday, Roman spent a lot of time cursing at the new phone he’d bought in North Carolina. It didn’t seem to want to sync with all his stored accounts. Despite having conferred repeatedly with his PA, he hadn’t managed to get his email, calendar, or address book to work right. And now the phone itself wasn’t working.
    Poor Roman.
    “Huh. I’ve got to get that. You can grab a shower if you want, and then we can rustle up breakfast.”
    Roman nodded. Ashley ducked into the trailer and answered the call right before it would have gone to voicemail. “Hey, Mitz.”
    “Ashley! Where are you? I’ve been trying to get you for days.”
    “In Pennsylvania.”
    “Why?”
    “Stanley.”
    “Oh. Right.” She sounded crestfallen. Stanley and Mitzi weren’t the best of friends. “Well, have you got any good dirt yet on your developer?”
    “Not really.”
    “Have you fucked him?”
    “What? No.”
    “You might want to think about it. Men get sloppy after a good orgasm. He might tell you something.”
    “That would be an awesome idea if it weren’t totally amoral.”
    “Morality’s flexible. Anyway, I’ve been working from my end, but I’m drawing a blank. I talked to a bunch of people in the Keys—the permit guy, your grandma’s neighbors, chamber of commerce—and they all say Díaz is squeaky clean.”
    “He is. I mean, as far as I can tell.”
    “Right. He’s