I try to tell myself he means his construction business.
A self-made man after honest work.
But some secret, longing part of me feels like he’s talking about me.
Hopes he’s talking about us.
Like I could be that girl who tames the wild stallion.
It scares me a little.
Just thinking he’s a stallion who can’t be broken. If I’m starting to feel something for him, then this ends in something magnificent or a heart-stompy cataclysm.
I’m quiet for so long I guess he thinks I don’t want to talk about it.
In some ways, he’d probably be right. I’m too tired and beat up for this kind of heavy conversation right now.
“I don’t think you should be alone here for a while,” he finally says.
I smile faintly. “What? You think I’m ever alone? The animals are better than any alarm system.”
“Sheep and horses can’t knock a man out cold or call 9-1-1.” He pauses, keeping one broad hand warm against my back, holding me close to him.
“You underestimate how well I train my horses.” I wink.
“Libby. Be serious for a minute.”
Uh-oh.
He’s looking at me that way again.
That way that gets me all riled.
All quiet and gentle and concerned. All sexy and heroic.
Maybe I’m steel wool on the outside, but just like any girl, I’ve got a million soft spots. But it ain’t so often we meet a man who shows his, too.
Men don’t like to show their weaknesses ’cause other dudes make them feel like shit about it.
But this man, right here, twists me up inside.
All because he’s making it pretty undeniable that one of his soft spots is me.
“I’m gonna crash here tonight,” he says. “Maybe for a few nights. Don’t even start.”
My mouth hangs open.
Ohhh, he knows me too well. Because I’m about to shove him off with a comment about his libido, but he heads it right off.
“Don’t think I’m up to no good. I’ll sleep on the couch like a choir boy. Scout’s honor,” he says. “I’m only here to keep an eye on you, Libby. I just need to know you’ll be okay for an hour or so while I go get my stuff from the inn.”
That gets my attention.
I snap my head up, bracing my hands against his chest to glare at him. “Holt Silverton, are you telling me you’ve been back in Heart’s Edge this long and you’ve been living at the Charming Inn? You couldn’t have rented a freaking apartment or stayed with Blake?”
“My choice.”
“Why?”
“Shit.” He coughs, exaggerated and deliberate, turning his face away, rubbing the back of his hand over his beard. “I don’t want to bother settling in proper until I can find a real home. Just haven’t had the time to buy or build.”
“So you’re living like a typical bachelor? Out of a suitcase, with a stranger cleaning your home and washing your underwear.” With a growl, I shove at him playfully. “Go. Get your stuff. All your stuff. You’re staying here until further notice.”
He stares at me, his eyes wide. “I’m what? Obviously, I want to stay to protect you as long as it takes, but—”
“But nothing!” I snap, like this was my idea to start with when we both know it wasn’t. “I’m not having you living like that, even if the Fords run a tight ship. Go get your stuff.”
He stares me down, his eyes narrowed.
“You heard me.” I snap my hand out, pointing at the door. “Go.”
He just keeps looking at me for a few more dumbfounded seconds before a slow smile curls his lips.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t make me regret this. I will kill you.”
“And I’m being ever so obliging by giving you plenty more chances.” He’s laughing as he stands, holding his hands up in mock-surrender. “I’ll be back soon. Call me if anything else happens and I’ll turn right around. Phone’s fully charged this time. No more missing your calls.”
Missing calls?
Oh.
That’s why he hadn’t picked up, and I’d been so mad I could’ve spit nails.
Dear Lord.
I cannot let this man get under my skin this much.
“Out!” I jab my finger at the door again.
“I’m moving.” He turns and swaggers out, giving me a glimpse of a butt built like a god, pure devil-may-care smirk on his lips, which he throws back over his shoulder.
I don’t stop glaring until the door closes in his wake.
Then I rock forward, bending over my thighs, and bury my face in my hands.
Oh, my God.
What did I just do?
I practically begged the man who kisses me like wildfire to move on in.
Indefinitely.
He drives me up the flipping wall and through the roof.
And he comes marching right back through my door.
I lift my head, a question on my lips.
One that I never get to speak.
Because in one fluid motion, he drops down to his knees in front of me, captures my face in his palms, and kisses me like the whole world is ending now and this is his only chance.