“That’s not even all of them. I enclosed my back porch for a workout room and I put up shelves in there to handle the overflow.”
She gave his chest the kind of appraisal guaranteed to get a rise out of him. “I figured you must work out.”
“Not as much as I used to. I’d rather write than sweat.”
“This is you on a reduced exercise regime?”
Evidently the muscles he had were enough. That was gratifying. “A year ago I could bench press two-twenty. Bulking up was my strategy for impressing women.”
“Did it work?”
“Like a charm. But I’ve switched strategies. Now I write books.”
“To impress women?”
“One woman.” Tilting back his head, he drank the rest of the water and set the glass on the nightstand.
Her gaze sharpened. “You said you didn’t writeTequila Shotsfor me.”
“I didn’t.” He picked up the condom, one more step down the path to nowhere. “I wrote it for us.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Iwrote it for us.Rance’s confession blasted through her sensual mood and gave her a harsh slap of reality. What was she doing here?
Every moment she spent in his bed was a cheat. She wasn’t his one true love, despite the fantasies he’d built. Time to get the hell out of here before she did any more damage to his dreams.
Putting down her water glass, she scooted around so she was facing him. God, he was beautiful. She ached for his touch, but she couldn’t keep selfishly taking what he offered. Lovely though it was.
His gaze clouded. “Clearly I shouldn’t have admitted that.”
“I’m glad you did. There is nousbut I get why you believed there would be. Now it’s time to be smart and cut?—”
“Wish I’d swallowed that comment, too. Me and my big mouth.”
His very kissable, talented mouth. “But you’re right. We?—”
“Mom says I’m overly verbal. I need to talk less and think?—”
“Rance, this isn’t your fault.”
“Feels like it.”
“I didn’t see forty years into the future, either.”
“I did, but it was a different movie.”
She covered his hand, the one that held the condom. “Seriously, we need to cut our losses.”
Foil crinkled as he closed his fist. “Taking you home before we use this seems like we’re adding to our losses.”
“It’s wrong for me to enjoy your body while shoving a knife in your heart.”
He blinked. “You’re feeling guilty?”
“Of course I am. I let myself get carried away by your book, your cozy cabin, your sexy body. When all along I knew we’d never?—”
“Whoa, whoa.” Leaving the condom on the mattress, he took both her hands in his. “I wrote the book. I kissed you. I invited you here. I suggested we could fool around after dinner. If anyone should feel guilty, it’s me.”
