Ingrained manners had her stepping toward the door before her brain registered the act. Bother. She came to an abrupt halt, briefly thought about freeing the sharp words tickling her tongue, then continued to the kitchen. It wouldn’t hurt to regroup.
The creak of the floorboards behind her straightened her shoulders and made her last steps to the kitchen self-conscious and jerky.Drat the man.Her hands were unsteady—again—as she retrieved a wine glass from the cupboard. The show of nerves continued when she poured the wine, drops of liquid sloshing on the counter before she regained control.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“You piss me off,” she snapped. “I don’t understand why you’re here when I’ve made it clear we’re over.”
He propped his hip against the counter and studied her closely—until she felt like a creepy-crawly laid out on a glass slide. She thrust the glass of wine at him and finally, finally, he released her from his gaze. “We’re not over. I want you as much as I always have, and if you’re honest, you want me too. Yvonne, we’re good together.”
Yeah, yeah.Her marriage had been agreeable at the start—pleasant and enjoyable even—but look how that had turned out. Not that she was bitter or anything.
“Yet you decided to publically search for a wife on a reality show,” she said sweetly. “And when we were seeing each other, you’d come here, stay long enough to get your rocks off and sneak out again. I was a convenience.”
“We’re good together,” he repeated, pinning her with his determined gaze.
“We fucked,” she said with brutal intent. “We scratched an itch. I don’t want that again. I refuse to sneak around. When I start dating again it will be with a man who doesn’t act as if he’s ashamed to take me out in public, a man who likes my children, a man who’ll rub my feet at the end of a busy day. Damn.”
Angry at herself for thinking of her ex-husband and for having to deal with Nolan, she limped back to the lounge and dropped into her favorite easy chair with a loud sigh. A man—this man—wasn’t worth the aggravation of aching arches. Gingerly, she lifted her feet and placed them on the matching footstool. She closed her eyes.
Ah, the simple things in life.
“Why didn’t you say you were exhausted?”
His harsh voice, right next to her ear, made every muscle stiffen. Her eyes snapped open. “I thought it would be obvious to anyone with half a brain. It’s been a busy week.”
“Look, I know I’ve screwed up, but I didn’t apply to the reality show. My mother did, and by the time I realized, it was too late to pull out. My grandmother persuaded me it would be good for Clare, gain us some publicity, and I decided to play my mother and teach her a lesson, which is why I picked Susan. I like Susan. She’s great, but she’ll make me a much better sister-in-law.”
“So it’s true? Tyler and Susan are getting married?”
“Yeah.” Nolan smiled—a wide and genuine smile that grabbed every one of her female hormones and embraced them tightly. Her fingernails bit into the flesh of her thigh to halt her impulse to touch.
“That’s…ah…nice,” she finished.
“My mother thinks she can direct my life,” Nolan said. “I guess you’ve heard my father has moved in with me.”
“Yes.”
“Tyler and I learned a few other things recently. We’re half-brothers.”
“Is that why your mother is always so horrid to Tyler?” Yvonne asked, curious despite herself.
“Yeah. Look, I don’t want to talk about my parents. I want to make things right between us. I care about you, Yvonne.”
Yvonne blinked to break their connection. She reached for her wine and ran her finger around the rim. “I have my sons to worry about. My aunt needs me. I…you hurt me, Nolan. I’m sorry, but I don’t have the energy for a relationship. Not with you.” The truth—she still hurt. Every time she’d heard gossip about that stupid reality show it had felt like dull knives ripping through her flesh. She wasn’t dumb enough to put herself through the same pain again.
Nolan was silent for a long time. “I understand. Can—could we be friends?”
Her heart did a rapid dance, a victory bop against her ribs. Yvonne forced her brain to do the talking. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Because we’re more than friends?”
“No,” she blurted.Oh, Yvonne. Too quick.She risked a glance at him and her heart did another crazy Snoopy dance.
A slow, very sexy smile spread across his lips, stealing her breath, filling her with longing. “What’s that saying about the lady protesting too much?”
Yvonne squared her shoulders and prepared to lie.
“Would you like a foot rub?”
