Claire
Rowan
I just want to know if I’m doing it again, being too nice?
Have I not been convincing enough? Do you need me to be more dangerous?
Or is that not the problem and you’re just letting me down gently?
Because I can’t help but feel like your “no” wasn’t a hard one …
Also, I’m gonna need you to stop being so cute. I can hear you growling at me from here.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
claire
Rowan standsthere with a mug in one hand and his phone in the other after I fling open my bedroom door. He offers me an apologetic smile to go along with my cup of coffee, and I can’t tell which warms me more easily.
“I’m not getting an answer, am I?” he ventures after I take the first sip.
“No,” I say firmly, and he frowns. “There. That one hard enough for you?”
He shakes his head as his smile returns. “And I thought I asked you to stop being this cute. You know I love it when you wear those overalls.”
I roll my eyes at his crisp baby blue button down and the casual slacks that look like they were tailored to fit him. But then again, he’s always appropriately dressed.
“Figured you’d inform me of some rule about women only being allowed to wear dresses since Jesus rose on the third day,” I mumble, trying to ignore the way his shirt makes his eyes pop.
“Nah, I like this better, anyway. Especially since we both know you’ll just end up in the barn with the kids,” he leans in to add, making me scoff. I shove him out of my way after that, and he chuckles as he follows me to the kitchen.
Frankie’s tail thumps against the floor when he sees me, so I set my coffee aside and stoop down to squish his furry face between my hands, already feeling guilty about leaving them all day. My chest tightens when he stares up at me with more love and adoration in his big, brown eyes than I could ever deserve. Oscar approaches a second later, and I try to hide my sniffling by greeting him in a silly voice. But when I glance at Rowan to see whether he’s noticed my ridiculously emotional reaction to my dog’s everyday loyalty, I find him staring back at me with an expression that rivals Frankie’s.
I clear my throat and dust my hands off on my thighs as I stand. “I’m not going anywhere with you if you don’t quit looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” he asks, casually taking a sip from the same mug he uses every time he comes over. And the fact that I let him pick out a favorite mug tells me I’m in more trouble than I thought.
“Like you’re plotting against me or something,” I reply with as much sass as I can muster.
He shrugs. “Do you … want me against you?”
I narrow my eyes at him as he struggles to keep his expression blank. “Who’s being cute now?”
“So youdothink I’m cute.” His brow and his lips lift on the same side, and it’s downright freaking adorable. Not that I’m about to admit that to him, of course.
“What happened to not pushing your luck again and all that?” I fire back before I turn to slip on my work boots.
“We both know what seeing you first thing in the morning does to my brain,” he says on a sigh. “Especially when you wake up in a salty mood.”
I spin around, ready to deliver another smart-assed retort, only to find him mere inches away from me. My breath catches in my throat, and my knees threaten to buckle as his eyes run over me.
“I, um … Maybe I should change after all,” I pant, fluttering my eyelashes as if I’m fanning myself. But there’s no cooling off once Rowan reaches out to hook a finger behind the bib of my overalls and tugs mecloser.
“I meant what I said about these overalls. But if it bothers you that much, you could always take them off,” he suggests, his voice gravelly, and my knees threaten to buckle when he drags a finger up to graze the clasp over my chest. “Or maybe you’d rather wait until we get to the barn for that?”
“Rowan, what are you doing?” I choke out.
“Looking for answers,” he replies.
