Free Black Ember by Ruby Laska

on a stone warmed by the sun.
    She put her hand over his and hesitated for a second before pushing him away and stepping back.
    “So they’re fake,” she said frostily. “I have commitment issues when it comes to shoving needles through my flesh. I’ll get around to having the real ones done once I…once things settle down a little.”
    “Is that right.” He didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed. He closed the distance between them again and traced his fingers up the edge of her ear, confirming that nothing remained of the clunky studs, not even a dent. As his fingertip rounded the top of her ear and explored the edge of her face, tracing the smooth curve of her cheekbone and up to her eyebrows, she shivered beneath his touch.
    “Stop that.”
    “Stop what?” There had been two silver rings here before, pinching the skin above and below her pale, arched eyebrows. “Didn’t that hurt, having metal poking into your face for hours?”
    “It didn’t poke…oh,” she breathed, as his fingertip lightly touched the bridge of her nose, down around the edge where the fake ruby stud had been. “There were magnets involved,” she finally managed.
    Zane laughed softly. He was enjoying himself—maybe a little too much, in fact, as he could sense the stirring of urges and impulses that had been dormant for a while, certainly for the last three weeks of nonstop shift work on the rigs, when most nights all he wanted when he got home was to fall into bed. All that pent-up desire—maybe it was only natural for it to come out now, except all he was doing was touching this exasperating woman’s face, not ripping her clothes off.
    “Magnets,” he repeated.
    “Yes, tiny ones that go behind your ear or inside your nose, and the eyebrow ones—”
    Her voice broke off as he caressed her upper lip, using his thumb along the lower one at the same time. Her mouth was beautiful, irresistible, undoubtedly delicious, and what he really wanted to do was to explore with his own lips and tongue.
    Instead, using every last ounce of restraint he possessed, he dropped his hand away. This was a dangerous game. The way he was feeling right now, he could easily forget his promise to himself to never let a woman rely on him, need him—to never allow himself to let a woman down the way he’d let down so many of the other people in his life. His romantic slate, at least, was clean: he’d never had so much as a long-term girlfriend. Usually he got itchy around the two-week mark, claustrophobic at a month, downright desperate to be alone the few times he’d allowed a relationship to progress past the two-month mark. The longest he’d ever made it was four months, and that was only because the woman had been an executive with a crazy travel schedule that meant they only saw each other a few times a month, and even that felt like she was trying to smother him.
    And this girl? The one who was breathing just a little too fast, her skin just a little too pink, her lips parted in a way that was just a little too suggestive—she was trouble. She was carrying more than secrets around with her; Zane was pretty sure her past was full of hard knocks, missteps, and mistakes. And he didn’t want any part of that.
    “The eyebrow ones poked a little,” she said, her lashes fluttering down as she stared at the coffee pot she was holding. “I might give up on those.”
    “Well,” Zane said briskly, changing the subject. “I had some thoughts about where you could stay. Guy I know from work, he and his wife just bought a place out east of town, and they’re looking for a nanny. Live-in—you’d have your own bedroom and bathroom. Are you any good with kids?”
    It was a long shot, especially when her eyes went wide and a look of horror passed over her face. Okay, strike that—Tim and Sonia probably would have reacted just about the same way if Zane suggested they hire a cocktail waitress in motorcycle boots to watch their two kids.
    Cal