“Good.” Her response clearly annoyed him, too. “You’ll get along fine, then.”
Chris retreated into silence, totally aggravated by the tension that had ruined the mood of their evening. And aggravated that she was aggravated because she’d spent so many months deliciously calm. Who cared what Zac thought of her love life? He was—
Stop again. Another old pattern—coming up with an outraged defense to distract herself from the truth. Truth always needed admitting and facing, no matter how hard.
Okay. Truth time. Zac’s big-brother answer to her charged question had pricked her ego. Deep down she’d wanted him to say he was jealous of her dating other men. Because...
Because...
Because she was attracted to him.
The minute she admitted the truth, she felt the aggravation draining away, giving her a moment of relief before it was replaced by the almost worse panic of vulnerability.
Why hadn’t he stayed in Connecticut?
Okay. He’d asked his hard question, now she got to ask hers. “It’s my turn. Do you ever get upset? Behave badly? Go nuts over something?”
“Nah.” He sent her a grin. “I’m pretty even-keeled. Not a talent—I was born that way.”
“Yeah, not me.”
“No kidding.” His smile and the offer of more excellent chocolate took any insult out of the words.
“You wait.” She let the dark richness spread over her tongue. “By the time I go back to New York I’ll be just like you.”
“I hope not.”
She wrinkled her forehead. “Why?”
“Because I’m not gay.”
“What?” Then what he meant hit her and she broke out in giggles. “That was terrible.”
“Yeah?” He got to his feet, towering over her in the darkness. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”
She scrambled to her feet. “No, no, you don’t need to do that.”
“Yes. I do.” He stared down at her, hands on his hips. “I need to make sure you get home safely.”
What could she say to that? She helped him pack up the picnic things and insisted on carrying the blanket.
They walked back to Eva’s house in comfortable silence. Then what had been a friendly stroll suddenly turned into what seemed like the awkward end of a first date.
Breathe, Chris. It’s only awkward in your head. Be in the moment.
“Thanks for walking with me.” She handed him the blanket, wishing it was broad daylight so she wouldn’t have to speak in such an intimate whisper. The stillness around them made her feel as if they were the only two people left in the world.
“You’re welcome. I hope...” He stood looking down at her. Chris started to take a defensive step back, then made herself stay put and listen to whatever else he was about to say without judgment or dread, trying to calm her hyper pulse. “I hope we can do this again.”
Her immediate panicked response was to say absolutely not. Because otherwise, well, something bad might happen.
Like...
Sigh. She’d take the middle road.
“You want to do what again?” She sent him a sly look. “Meet by chance on the beach at one in the morning?”
“Exactly, yes.”
“It could happen.” Chris forced a laugh, relieved that he hadn’t pressed further, and then, all of a sudden, she felt...disappointed.
Argh! How was she supposed to follow her true inner voice if the little brat kept changing its mind?
Okay, truth time—she was disappointed. But as she’d realized earlier, it was late and dark and the air was cool and soft and smelled ocean wonderful. They were both tired, and having opened up to each other a little down on the beach, they’d created the prime conditions for feelings that might not hold up. Yes, Chris had promised herself to live in the moment, but that didn’t include doing something she knew she’d regret the next day.
“Good night, Zac.” Her voice came out husky and low in spite of her having made an effort to pitch it up high and hearty.
“Good night, Chris.”
Thank goodness he turned to go. Because being this close to the enticing outline of his solid masculine body, those feelings that might not hold up were becoming pretty strong. What’s more, they had apparently rooted her to the spot, because she stayed put, watching him walk away, feeling hollow and wistful.