But she didn’t say it, because her mind was on other things, like Billy, and that kiss from a few weeks ago, and how she wished every day he’d kiss her again. How she wished right now he’d kiss her again. He was standing so close, smelling of hay and sunshine, looking even more gorgeous, if such a thing was possible. Faint creases fanned at his eyes, and there was a little groove next to his mouth that deepened when he smiled. She’d come to know his face so well, and it was a face she loved to study when he wasn’t paying attention to her.
“It was never a hardship,” she said, fingers itching to reach out and grab his belt, and pull him toward her. She’d loved those weeks where he’d needed her help with bandages and slings. It had been too long since he’d needed her help and she could feel his warmth, and the press of that impressive chest. “You never complained, and you always did try to help me, despite your limitations.”
Suddenly he reached out and brushed a long tendril of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. “You’ve gotten pretty good at eggs. Scrambled and fried. I’m impressed.”
She pursed her lips, trying not to smile. He was so lovely and awful at the same time. She never knew if she wanted to punch him or kiss him—
Okay, not true.
She was desperate to kiss him again. Her body hummed with tension all day long, her skin so sensitive, lips tingling. If only he’d kiss her and maybe it wouldn’t be as good as the first time. Maybe she’d realize that had been a fluke, and she’d not want his mouth on hers, or kissing his way down her neck, or covering her nipple—
“Nipple?” he said. “What?”
Erika threw her head back, horrified, her gaze locking with his. “What did you say?”
“What did you say? Nipple?”
Heat burned her cheeks, her face blisteringly hot. “No. Why would I say that?”
“I don’t know.” His gaze dropped and lingered on her breasts. “But now that you mention it—”
“I didn’t mention it. You did. I don’t even know what’s going on.” Flustered, she marched to the sink, checking for dirty dishes. There were none. She looked at the coffeepot. It was empty. Maybe she should make a fresh pot. “Do you want some coffee?” she asked, tone brisk.
He laughed softly behind her. “No.”
“Lunch?”
“Had lunch already.”
“Snack?”
He didn’t answer, and the silence wasn’t quiet, but a taut, listening awareness that made her insides do a funny flip, and the hair rise on her nape. Even without looking at him, she knew he was looking at her, and she could feel the heat in his eyes, feel the sizzling energy between them. It had been like this for weeks now. No physical contact, just endless sparks and tingling awareness, an awareness that made her chest tight and her body ache.
She glanced at him over her shoulder and her gaze met his, his intense blue gaze smoldering, filled with unspoken desire. “No Cheez-Its?” she murmured, hot and shivery at the same time.
“No.”
His voice was deep and hard, his jaw equally hard, his mouth firm, uncompromising. She couldn’t even imagine being his woman. Couldn’t imagine the heat or passion. She’d had sex before, but it wasn’t with anyone like Billy. But honestly, was there anyone like Billy? Tough, competitive, smart, grounded, funny—so funny.
She’d never been so attracted to anyone physically before, not like this. Billy made her want and need. He made her want everything and that was so new, and so shocking, she still hadn’t been able to wrap her head around it. The desire. The desire for him.
But the desire came with emotions, and unlike simple lust, she didn’t want to just sleep with him. She wanted the whole package… all of him. His heart along with his body, but he didn’t do relationships. He didn’t invest in women for the long haul. If they went to bed together, that was all it would be—sex. A carnal itch that might be briefly satisfied but would ultimately leave her feeling worse. Feeling emptier, more alone.
More broken.
She couldn’t handle that.
What she needed was someone who’d want her for love, but also life. Someone who’d want to be with her when she wasn’t young and she didn’t have a small waist and firm butt. She wanted someone who’d love her with wrinkles and gray hair. Someone who’d make her laugh just because he enjoyed making her laugh.
“Goldfish?” she said, eyes hot and stinging. Heart filling her throat.
“Do we have any?” he asked.
“No.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and his eyes burned into hers. “Good try.”
“Thank you.”
“I think you know what I want,” he said after a moment.
She did, too. She wanted the same thing. As his gaze held hers, she could feel the leashed desire, the hunger contained. She knew he wanted her. His energy was potent. Powerful. His interest made her feel almost beautiful, and that was something as she’d never felt beautiful, not even when people paid her compliments. It was hard to feel beautiful when you knew you were deeply flawed, when you weren’t sure you were whole enough to be truly loved. She’d grown up all too aware of her fears and foibles; the insecurities that made her feel shame.
But somehow, when she was with Billy, close to him, she didn’t feel shame. She didn’t feel broken. She felt alive and fierce. Hopeful. But all it would take was one misstep and then the beautiful desire, and the lovely sense of wanting, and being wanted, would end.
“I don’t want to be one of your girls,” she said, grateful she could sound calm, relaxed, when she felt anything but.
“This is getting harder, not easier,” he said abruptly.
She nodded.
“What are we going to do about it?” he asked.
She could see from his eyes what he wanted to do. Her pulse thudded, her heart felt as if it had tumbled to her feet. “What do you want to do?”
“Maybe I should get on the road again. Join Tommy—”
“You’re going to compete?”
“Just travel with him. Keep him company.”
Her eyes smarted. “And leave Beck here with me?”
“Boom’s mom has offered to babysit regularly—”
“So, you do mean to leave us behind.”
“I know you have work to do, and it’s hard being locked down here. I’ve nothing to do. I’m just in your way.”
Something in his tone made her chest tighten. He was creating boundaries. Distancing himself. Pushing her away again. “This your home. Maybe it’s time for me to go. You’re six weeks post-surgery. You can do almost everything—”
“Beck will miss you.”
Beck. But not Billy, not him. It was hard to swallow around the lump blocking her throat. “I love Beck. It will be hard to leave him, but I know he’s in good hands with you.”
He didn’t immediately reply. “No one is telling you to leave.”
“Thank goodness. That would be mortifying.” She struggled to smile, and held it there, as if it’d been slapped onto her face. “But I’ll always be in his life. If you let me.”
“Of course I’ll let you. You’re his family.”