He had no idea what he’d done or said to cause such a turnabout in attitude. From what he’d seen, Rena liked him well enough. First off, that kiss at Ray’s had proven they had chemistry. So he had that going for him. Plus she’d given him a lot of interested looks in her salon, leading him to think the kisses hadn’t been a fluke. So what the hell had changed her mind?
Damn it. He’d been too slow for too long. Then when he made his move, she rejected him without a reason? What about Ray’s? Had their connection in the closet meant nothing to her?
He’d punched a heavy bag in his garage for a long time last night, enough to bruise his knuckles. He must have worn his mood at work because the guys had given him space. Even Rylan kept that big trap of his shut.
Stewing and irritated because he didn’t stew, or at least he didn’t like to think he did, Axel made a command decision. If Rena wanted to tell him to get lost, she could do it to his face. He’d accept her rejection with dignity, no whiny fool and too proud to beg. But damn it all, she should have the guts to give him a rational reason why—he intimidated her, he was too blond, too tall, too ugly, too stupid. Something more than a lame “we’d never work as a couple.”
He left his truck and strode up the walkway to her door with purpose. Then he knocked. Firmly.
“Hold on,” he heard her yell through the door and hated that his heart beat faster.
After a pause, in which he hoped she’d been checking on his identity through her peephole, she opened the door. “Axel?” Her girlish squeak made him want to smile. Her hand went immediately to the scarf hiding her hair. Then she frowned, dropped her hand, and growled, “What are you doing here? I told you the date was off.”
He drank her in, starting at the top of her head wrapped in a pretty scarlet-and-yellow scarf, down to her face free of makeup and even more beautiful because of it, to the fuzzy lemon-yellow sweatshirt and matching bunny pajama pants she wore. On her feet she had thick orange socks. She looked tired, yet the sudden glint in her eyes warned him not to mention the fact or that he’d found her in her comfy clothes.
So he did anyway. “I like your pants.”
She looked down at them and sighed. “It’s pajama night.”
“Okay.” He stood there, staring at her, and all thought left him, the need to kiss those plump lips almost more than he could stand.
She cleared her throat, a soft look of embarrassment crossing her features. “Um, did you need something? Because it’s been a long day and I’m in for the night.”
Without him.
He frowned. “Tell me what I did. Why did you cancel our date? I’ll go, I promise. I just want to know why.”
She blinked. “You came over here to hear me tell you why I broke off the date?”
“Why you reneged on our bet,ja.” Annoyance replaced his adoration for the woman. “I was promised two dates.”
“I, that’s… What does it matter?”
“It matters,” he muttered.
She stared at him, and he could see the nice person inside her wrestling with the bothered woman standing in front of him. Nice won out. “Oh hell. You want a second date? Fine. Come in.” She turned on her heel, giving him a glimpse of her lovely ass bedecked by smiling cartoon bunnies.
“Thank you,Häschen,” he said, unable to stop a grin. “I am overjoyed to be invited into your lovely home.”
She harrumphed and flopped back onto her couch, pointedly not looking at him. “I’m in real mode. This is me.” She pointed to herself. A few golden curls escaped the scarf to frame her face, highlighting her delicate features, the warm brown of her cheeks. He wanted to tell her how pretty she looked, but she said, “I know I look like a hag. If you’re smart, you’ll shut up about it.”
He had no idea what she was talking about. He preferred real to fake any day, and she had true beauty inside and out. Makeup only enhanced what was already there. But in her current frame of mind, she’d accuse him of being sarcastic if he told her the truth. Then she’d kick him out. So he remained silent and turned to study her home instead.
He couldn’t believe she’d allowed him inside and hurried to get a better glimpse into the snarly little rabbit burrowing into her blanket.
The home looked lived in, the furniture comfortable and colorful, the wooden floor old and scarred and needing a new finish. Stairs to the left of the front door headed upstairs, and the hallway past the kitchen likely led to a bathroom or set of rooms farther back.
In her surprisingly spacious living room, on a dark-red couch, throw pillows in various colors were scattered, some on the floor, moved out of place by Rena’s lounging. A blemished wooden coffee table and side table framed the couch, and two ratty red-and-tan patterned chairs sat on either end of the coffee table. The sectioned-off kitchen had an L shape with a dining area large enough for a table and six chairs but which currently had four. In the kitchen, a few dirty dishes littered the counters and sink.
The home felt like Rena, inviting, warm, and, he thought with amusement, a bit scattered. Unlike his own residence where everything had its place.
Rena also had a lot of photos of friends and family, with a sea of pictures on a side table in addition to the mantel over a fake fireplace. He saw her cousins and uncle, a woman who had to be either her sister or mother, they looked that much alike, the guys at Ray’s, the gang at Webster’s Garage, and a few more of Rena with people she obviously considered close.
And there, taking up the entire back wall of the living room, shelves teemed with row upon row of books.
Paperbacks filled four floor-to-ceiling bookcases. On closer inspection, he saw she’d organized them by genre then alphabetical order—according to the sticky note tags separating sections. He felt as if he’d walked into a bookstore, seeing some covers facing out, others with just their spines. Almost all of the books had couples or shirtless men on the covers. Just like the three books she had stacked on her coffee table in front of her.
A surreptitious glance showed buff, half-naked, long-haired men holding women in their arms. He blinked and leaned closer but only caught one title before she turned over the books, covers down.
