He lifted a brow. “I think that's probably true, but I think you're also worried about other people liking you.”
“You don't think people like me?”
“I think other people like you a lot. And I don't think that you have to try to make them like you. But I think that you think you do.” He lifted a hand and brushed her hair back from her face. “And I have no idea why I'm suddenly playing psychologist. It's really not like me.”
Well, he was good at it. She wasn’t going to tell him that, but he'd hit the nail on the head.
It came from her father and how he'd screwed her up psychologically, of course. She'd obviously spent years wondering why she hadn't been enough for him. Why their home and family hadn't been enough. Why he’d had to go out seeking more and wanting more than he could have at home with them.
“Okay, then I guess I'm heading home.”
“Okay. And you’ll call me when you get there.” He didn’t phrase that as a question.
She laughed. “Really?”
He shrugged. “Really. I want to be sure you get there and I would like to know that you really are eating something and then going straight to bed.”
“Why don't you just walk me home?”
“Are you within walking distance?”
“Well, not exactly. We’d have to drive. But you can come with me and make sure that I eat and shower and get to bed.”
He shook his head slowly. “See, the fact that I want to do that more than I want to do anything else, means I shouldn't. I can't sleep with you tonight, Rory.”
The way he said her name, combined with the way he was looking at her, made her stomach flip. In a very good way.
“And if I come home with you, I’d like to think I’m a good enough guy to resist, but…” He brushed a hair back from her face again, but surely there wasn’t another one there. “I’m not at all sure that’s true.”
“If we sleep together tonight, you’re going to worry that it's because of everything else that's going on with me right now,” she said.
He nodded. “Exactly.”
That was fair. And he was being a really good guy. She needed to let him off the hook. “You really are a nice guy, Drew.”
He actually rolled his eyes at that. And sighed. “Yes, I know.”
She laughed, then lifted on tiptoe and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “That's a good thing. Since coming to Autre, I’ve been around a lot of good guys, but none of them are—” She abruptly stopped. Wow. She’d almost said mine.
None of them are mine.
No, none of the good guys in Autre were hers. But neither was Drew.
He lifted a brow.
“None of them have done that to me,” she said, tipped her head toward the stall next to them. That was totally true.
His gaze heated. “I’m really fucking glad to hear that. And see, that makes me not such a great guy.”
“It does?”
“I shouldn’t be possessive about a woman who I just met and who deserves to have men falling at her feet and worshipping her. You deserve to feel good and have people wanting to make you feel good all the time.”
She smiled. How could she not like a guy who said stuff like that? She kind of liked the idea that Drew might feel a little possessive of her.
And that could be trouble.
“I don’t know,” she told him. “Still seems like you’re a good guy.”
“Dammit.”
She could delve into that like crazy. She wanted to know all about him. Everything about him.
So instead of going into all of that, she turned on her heel and started to step past him and head out the of barn. But one thing made her turned back. “Hey, earlier when you just turned and walked away. What was that about?”
Drew shoved his hands into his front pockets, then took a deep breath and blew it out before answering. “Because I absolutely did not want to walk away. At all. Maybe ever.”
Her stomach somersaulted again, a much bigger flip this time and her brain said, oh, hell.
So, instead of getting into any more of that, she just nodded, then did the same thing by turning on her heel and walking away from him this time.
But as soon as she was inside her house and in her kitchen, she called him.
“I'm home and making a sandwich.”
“Good. What kind?”
With some distance from him, she felt a little more rational. Like a sandwich was a good idea. And that staying up all night doing dirty things to Drew Ryan was maybe not the best call. Tonight. Only for tonight, though.
His question made her smile and feel warm now. “Peanut butter and jelly. It's fast and always good any time of day.”
“Good choice. I approve.”
“Where are you right now?” she asked as she pulled bread, peanut butter, and jelly together on the counter.
“In my room at Mitch and Paige’s.”
She knew where Mitch and Paige lived, but she'd never been inside, so the bedroom she conjured as she thought about Drew was purely made up. Not that it mattered. “What are you doing?”
She started spreading peanut butter on the bread, only half her mind on her task. Or less than half her mind. She was definitely thinking about Drew, and what they’d just done in the barn. Or what he’d just done. And what she would really like to do to him the next time she saw him.
He was right to have sent her home alone. She was not at her best mentally, emotionally, or physically. But her desire for this man hadn't started with her exhaustion in the barn and she didn't see it dissipating.
Still, it would be nice to assure him of that the next time she saw him.
“I'm just lying on the bed. Wanting to make sure you're safe and sound before I fall asleep.”
“What are you wearing?” she asked with a little smile as she added jelly to her sandwich.
His soft chuckle caused goosebumps to trip down her arm even over the phone.
“Nah. We’re not doing that tonight, Rory.”
Something about the way he said her name filled her with happiness and lust at the same time.
She couldn't remember a guy ever doing that to her before. She’d certainly wanted guys in the past. Been turned on. Been even a little wanton, if she was honest. And she'd dated guys she liked, of course. She'd been friends with guys, for that matter. But the combination of all of those things that she felt with Drew was unique.
“Okay, then I guess I won't get frisky with this peanut butter.”
He gave a little half-groan half-laugh. “No. Eat the sandwich. Then take a hot shower.”
She took a bite and chewed. “Is that your not-so-subtle way of telling me I didn't smell like peppermint ice cream a little bit ago?”
He paused, then cleared his throat, then said in a husky voice that made her whole body say let’s freaking go to Iowa!, he told her, “I wanted to put my mouth on every single fucking inch of you. Does that answer your question?”
She sucked in a little breath and nodded. Then remembered she was on the phone. “Yeah. I guess it does.”
“Good. Keep eating on your way up to the shower.”
“Are we going to talk on the phone while I shower?”