Discovering You

He’d never expected this.

“That’s nice,” she murmured when he kept it soft.

It was nice. Her kiss told him she wasn’t nearly as cold and unreachable as he’d assumed.

Soon his heart was pounding almost as hard as when he’d gotten into that fight. But as she relaxed and began to sink into the kiss, he could tell she was investing a great deal of emotion, as if...as if she knew him better than she did.

He pulled back to look at her, but she didn’t open her eyes. He was fairly certain she didn’t want to see him. She wanted to feel what he was making her feel so she could pretend he was someone else. Someone she loved and missed. Charlie.

A strange reluctance hit him, slowing his pulse. Two minutes earlier he hadn’t cared that she wanted him only for his body. He’d known she wasn’t inviting him over for his personality; they weren’t well enough acquainted for that. But now?

His gut told him to stop. He’d been with plenty of women, knew he could give her an orgasm. But she’d experienced what it was like to feel something deeper for the man who was making her tremble. A hit-and-run, even a successful one, would only convince her that their time together had been a mistake.

Finally, she opened her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He wasn’t sure he could explain the disappointment he felt, wasn’t sure he should try. Since they’d barely met, it probably wouldn’t make any sense.

“Are you...in pain?” she asked. “Hurting? I have ibuprofen at my house.”

“That’s not it.” He had so much testosterone flowing through him that, once again, he could hardly feel his injuries. He wanted her; he was rock-hard. But she didn’t want him, and that disconnect was something he’d never experienced before. His previous one-night stands had involved women who admired him and were anxious to be with him—or what they perceived him to be. Even if he couldn’t count love as part of the equation, there’d been the hope of something more, a certain openness that wasn’t present here. It was almost as if India had chosen him because she didn’t feel he could ever be a threat to her heart. He was just a cheap substitute for the man she’d married.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’re sorry?” she echoed. “What does that mean?”

“I didn’t intend to get your hopes up and then disappoint you.” On the contrary, that was the one thing still goading him to continue. He felt he’d made a commitment, even though he’d barely touched her.

“Is that what you’re doing?” she asked.

“I guess it is,” he replied.

“What’d I do? You...you don’t like the way I kiss? Or my perfume reminds you of someone else? Or—”

“Nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

Should he tell her that he’d figured out why she’d chosen him? That he understood she’d defined him as a “troublemaker,” thanks to what she’d witnessed tonight and what Chief Bennett had said, and saw him as the perfect guy to use?

“I’d go home with you if that’d fix anything,” he said and meant it. “But you’d be every bit as lonely and miserable in the morning. The guilt might make things worse.”

Her troubled eyes met his. “If you’re stopping for my sake, don’t. I see it as an hour or two during which I won’t have to feel what I’d otherwise feel.” She pressed her lips against his, trying to engage him again. “I can take care of myself,” she said when he resisted. “I’ll accept responsibility.”

Catching her hands, he leaned away from her. “But there’s no way I can compete with the man in your mind.”

She looked befuddled. “You don’t need to compete. I’m not asking you to.”

“That’s just it. Because you’ve already counted me out. Why would I get involved?”

“Surely a guy like you—”

“A guy like me? You don’t even know me.”

“I’m guessing you’ve had other casual encounters.”

“Of course. I’m not pretending to be a saint.”

“Then...how am I different?” she asked. “I won’t expect anything from you afterward. I promise. I may live next door, but I’ll keep to myself.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” He could feel her surprise when he got out, knew she was watching as he walked to his house and went inside. He was stunned himself. Was he crazy to refuse what she’d offered him?

He knew what Grady and Mack would say. They’d think he’d lost his ever-lovin’ mind. They’d all been admiring her, and she’d just invited him into her bed!

If he were a few years younger, he would’ve said yes to something quick and dirty like that, he told himself. But he was thirty-one. It was time to take life more seriously, time to earn more respect. If India wanted to be with him, she’d have to give him an honest shot, not relegate him to the category of “good for a midnight ride but nothing else.”

Just because he’d had so little in life for so long didn’t mean he had to accept less forever—even if he was an auto body technician and not a heart surgeon.

* * *

If she closed her eyes, India could taste Rod’s kiss, could easily feel the way his lips and tongue had moved with and against hers. It wasn’t often that a man could kiss with such perfect pressure tempered by control. She’d just decided that she’d picked an ideal partner, one who could actually carry her away, when he’d pulled back and brought all that positive sensation to a halt.

Why had he changed his mind?

What he’d said led her to believe he wasn’t satisfied with the limitations she’d imposed on their encounter. Perhaps he didn’t like that she was the one dictating the terms. Or she’d ruined the challenge by offering. The men she’d been with before Charlie had liked having something to conquer. Love, or what passed for it, was a game to them. Considering what she’d learned from those early experiences, she’d played Rod entirely wrong. But she was an adult now, no longer interested in all the pretense and posturing that so often went with the single life.

Besides, she hadn’t intended to proposition him, hadn’t intended any of what had happened tonight. It’d been a desperate, spur-of-the-moment attempt to numb the dull ache that echoed through her body with every beat of her heart.

“Congratulations, you’ve fallen to a whole new low,” she muttered to herself. She needed to get her little girl back home. Cassia was the only anchor she still had in her life. She wouldn’t have made this mistake if Cassia was with her.

Getting her child back early wouldn’t be easy. Charlie’s parents wouldn’t welcome the idea. They’d likely start a fight as soon as she mentioned it.

Tears burned her eyes as she entered her drive and parked. Then she sat there, staring at her new house. She needed to hang all the art waiting in the detached garage, make this place her home in the truest sense. But some of those pieces were so heavy they’d require a helper, which she didn’t have, not unless she went to the trouble of hiring someone.

Anyway, the paintings would only remind her of Charlie, she told herself. He was the one who’d bought them for her—and she already thought of him far too often. She’d never get over him if she didn’t do what she could to move on.

She saw a light go on next door and realized it was probably coming from Rod’s room. The window that glowed in the darkness was on the second floor, and it had a small deck with stairs that led to the backyard and overlooked the river. She grabbed her purse, but just as she reached for the door latch, he confirmed that it was his room by coming out onto that deck and looking down at her car.

She wished she’d hurried inside while she’d had the chance to do it without being observed. How could she be so desperate as to proposition her new neighbor?

He must’ve thought she was pathetic...

Blinking back the tears that’d threatened a moment before—the situation would only get worse if he believed she was crying over his rejection—she forced herself to climb out of the car. She wanted to offer him an apology for being so forward, and to promise she’d never approach him like that again. But he was too far away to hear her, and she wasn’t about to walk any closer.

Better to prove it, anyway.

So she acted as though she didn’t notice him standing there and said nothing.

Once she was safely inside, she breathed a sigh of relief, locked the door and went to lie on Cassia’s bed, where she could hug one of her daughter’s stuffed animals while she waited for morning. Although she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep for some time—she’d had trouble getting a solid eight hours ever since that night—she didn’t bother turning on any lights. She just stared at the moonbeams filtering through the window.