Page 19

She is in the way. She is in every inch of a place that has only ever held me and an occasional family member. I’ve never brought a woman here. I go back to the main room to feed the stove so I have something to do with my hands.

After a minute she joins me in the living room looking completely fuckable in that soft cream sweater. Her hair is still a little messy from the wind and the way I was running my fingers through it when I kissed her. She sits on the arm of the couch instead of the seat, as if she’s still deciding whether she belongs here.

“Tour’s over?” she asks.

“Unless you want the shed and the woodpile. I can recommend both. Very romantic. Splinters included.”

“Pass.” She picks at a loose thread on her sleeve. “Your place is quieter than I thought it would be.”

“That’s the point.”

“I keep waiting for a siren. Or a bus. Or Maya yelling from the other room.” She glances at the dark window. “How do you stand it?”

“Practice. And work that starts before the sun.” I lean against the counter. “You get used to hearing yourself think.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She takes a deep breath and stretches. “It’s really late.” She stands, hesitating before moving toward the bedroom. “Are you coming?”

“In a minute.”

“Gideon.” Hearing my name on her lips does something to my insides I haven’t figured out how to stop yet. “If you sit out here building a case for sleeping in this room, I’ll come and drag you into the bedroom myself. You already agreed.”

“I’m not building anything. I’m cooling off.”

Her cheeks turn a rosy red. She knows what I mean.

What happened on that dance floor wasn’t for show, and I’m still reliving the feel of her curves flush against me and the taste of her mouth.

“Five minutes,” she announces, disappearing down the hall. I hear water running and force myself into motion. Lock the door. Stock the stove with wood, I move on instinct, killing every light except the one over the sink so she won’t break her neck in the dark. But every practical thought is drowned out by the fact that she’s in my house, getting ready for my bed.

The bedside lamp is on when I enter the bedroom. I take off my boots but leave my clothes on for armor. I guess she’s doing the same. She’s still dressed in her sweater and most likely jeans, with the quilt pulled to her waist on the far edge of the mattress, next to the window. I almost smile. Of course she did. That’s the spot you take if you want a quick escape.

I stretch out on my half and when the mattress dips, I feel her go still beside me.

The loft was easier than this. That frame was small enough to blame the closeness on furniture. Here, there aren’t any excuses. She already smells like my soap, or maybe I want her connected with my house so badly I’m imagining it.

“The generator hums less than the other one,” she whispers.

“Different brand. I just bought it.”

“The wind is still rude, though.”

I chuckle at the thought. “Not sure it realizes it’s pissing you off, but it’ll pass.”

I exhale deeply, forcing myself to relax, focusing on her breathing and the sound of pine branches brushing against the window. The silence stretches, and for a second, I think I can manage to fall asleep.

“About the bar,” she says, piercing the quiet.

“We don’t have to do a post-game.”

“I know. I just …” She shifts but doesn’t move closer. “I meant the kiss. I didn’t mean to slam the door after. It’s just … the contest has to come first. I can’t let this get in the way. If I place, if the publisher calls, if Derick decides to use me in a segment, I need to have my head on straight. Sometimes you make it difficult to concentrate.”

I stare at the ceiling and try not to take that personally. “What does ‘I can’t let this get in the way’ mean? Sounds like you’re the one getting ahead of yourself.”

She makes a sound that’s half laugh, half panic.

“It’s the static,” she explains. “Like when a signal gets crossed and all you hear is noise. You’re scrambling my lines, that’s all, just major interference in my brain.”

I shift and prop myself up on an elbow so I can watch her. “"So I'm a mechanical problem now?"