“Come eat.”
She nodded and he stood to give her space as she rolled over and slung her legs over the side of the bed.
“Where’s your shirt?” she asked.
“Drying. I had to wash it.”
“Why?”
“It stank.” He ran a hand over his abs. Hmm…maybe he should spend a little more time working out now that he had some downtime. “Is it going to bother you? Me not having a shirt on?”
She scoffed. “No.”
He fought his smile. He didn’t believe her. “Good. Food.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.”
He nodded and closed the door behind him.
She followed him less than a minute later and held out a shirt. “Here. I found some spare clothes when I got here—this should fit.”
He wanted to tease her again about his nakedness, but it was probably best not to push his luck. He pulled on the shirt while she sat in the chair next to him, tucking a leg underneath her.
He wanted to ask her about what she’d said in the car, but she seemed to have drawn into herself. She stared at her plate and chewed slowly. She looked…sad.
He’d done this to her. He was a selfish bastard and if he were a better man he’d walk away—again. But he wasn’t a better man and he still believed they deserved a second chance. Hewanteda second chance.
There’d never been anyone else in his life that he’d felt a connection to the way he did with Rowan. Even now, when she was pissed and angry at him, he felt her pull—like an invisible tether that would always connect them. He’d been stupid to walk away and to ever believe that she would walk away without a good reason.
“I think we should wait for the morning to drive to town,” he said.
Her spoon paused halfway to her mouth and she lowered it back to the bowl. “Why?”
I need more time.“It’ll be dark soon. I don’t want to run the risk of there being another tree down or the road being washed out. It’ll be safer to leave in the morning so we can see what’s ahead of us.”
The corners of her mouth pinched and he knew she wanted to argue with him, but it was a solid reason. She nodded and finished the rest of her dinner in silence.
Rowan cleared the dishes while he explored the bookcases in the living area. “They have Monopoly,” he said. “You want to play?”
She glared at him from the sink. “I’m not playing Monopoly with you.”
“Why?”
“You cheat.”
“What? No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.” She shut off the water and dried her hands.
He crossed his arms. “When have I ever cheated at Monopoly?”
“That time we played with Shelby and you kept moving your piece ahead spaces when you thought we weren’t looking.”
“That was—” He stared up at the ceiling, counting back. “That was more than fifteen years ago!”
“And we haven’t played Monopoly since,” she said.
“They have cribbage, do you want to play that?”
