My brows flew up in surprise. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Haven’t been interested.”
My pulse quickened. Could I throw aside my insecurities and ask him? “Are you now? Interested?” There was a slight tremble to my voice.
Looking shell-shocked, he sat back in his chair, his Adam’s apple bobbing once.
Oh, crap. There I went again, voicing thoughts better left in my head. “Never mind. Forget I asked. It’s the kiss thing, you know. I thought maybe—”
“I’m interested.”
I opened my mouth to respond, and closed it.
We watched each other, the last of our food forgotten, fire crackling cozily in the wood stove, the dogs snoring lightly from the hearthrug. Outside, the wind whistled through the trees.
“You?” He hadn’t moved, but the energy around him changed, grew expectant, tense.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“Is it ’cause I saved you?”
“Partly.” I couldn’t lie now that I’d opened up once. How the hell could I parse out this insane attraction? I’d spent less than 24 hours with the guy, so yeah, the fact that he’d saved my life probably had something to do with wanting to jump his bones. But not everything. This wasn’t a savior thing. It went deeper than that. “You’re also ridiculously hot.” He opened his mouth and I went on. “You’re kind, generous, interesting. You give the best massage I’ve ever had—including professionals—and you can cook.” I took in the dogs with a lift of the chin. “I’m clearly not the only female around here who thinks highly of you.”
“I’m a moody bastard.”
“Haven’t seen that yet.”
“I fly off the handle.”
“As long as it’s not at me.”
“Never.” His lips tightened and his eyes glittered with a small taste of that vengeful rage he’d shown this morning. “I reserve that for nutsacks who force themselves onto women.”
This man. Good God, this man. “I could like you. I could really, really like you.”
“Not much for relationships.”
Half-nervous, half-excited, I opened my mouth and asked, “How are you for dirty weekends?”
20
Micah
“Icould live with one of those.” I was working hard to keep it light and easy. What I really wanted was to grab her hand and pull her straight into my arms.
“All right, then,” she said, the color high and bright in her cheeks.
“All right.” I couldn’t make myself smile or react beyond that. I wanted it too much.
Quietly, we finished dinner and cleaned up, piling our dishes into a basin in the sink, to be dealt with outside in the morning. I lit a bunch of candles, which we needed in order to see, but it changed the whole thing, made it feel not quite romantic, but set up. Like we were building a set for this thing we’d decided to do.
The whole time we moved around easily, I was freaking out inside. She wanted this. Me. She wanted me.
If we did this right now, I’d come the second she touched me below the belt. And then what would she think of me? No way she could touch me if this was going to be even remotely satisfying for her.
Christ. I didn’t have any condoms, did I? And if I managed to dig some up, they’d be expired.
It was only seven o’clock. We had hours in front of us. Which both freaked me out and excited me.
