Barefoot by the Sea

favorite things, I might add.”

He winced. “Well, I had good reason.”

“What was it?”

“You couldn’t tell?” He looked a little relieved. “Well, you’d have figured it out soon enough.”

She still couldn’t make sense of that. “Figured what out?”

“What I was hiding.”

“What were you hiding?”

He lifted both brows like he couldn’t believe she didn’t know. When she shook her head slowly, unable to figure it out, he slowly glanced down at his lap, then back to her, the smile broadening.

“I was sure you’d see how much you—you know, affected me.”

She stared for a moment, part of her wanting to hoot a laugh and call Zoe, the only person who would truly appreciate that excuse. And part of her wanted to squirm at the thought of him affected.

He had danced around her questions, given evasive answers, and walked out because he was aroused? No. Not possible. “Yeah, mud boots and gardening clothes do that every time to a man.”

“I could see past the boots and dirt. And, what can I say? I liked it.” He leaned forward, a glint sparking like gas flames in his eyes. “Didn’t you feel it, too?”

Yes. “No.”

He laughed. “Now who’s lying?”

She was.

“So, am I forgiven?” he asked.

“You’re trying to tell me that you went to all the trouble to try and get that job and made world-class, five- star, mouthwatering avocado soup and bolted out the door because you were…” She let her eyes fall to the table that hid his crotch. “Uncomfortable.”

“Worse than uncomfortable.” Leaning closer, he whispered, “Like a two-by-four, woman.”

Oh, God. She wanted to laugh, but more than that she wanted to crawl over the table and kiss the living hell out of him. And feel that two-by-four.

“So you left.”

“Abruptly,” he acknowledged. “A bit overwhelmed, too.”

“And then you decided to take the job after all.” She played through the logic, and, like everything else about him, it left her mystified. “Why? I mean, if you think these…issues will affect you when we work together.”

“Oh, they will.” He came closer, seeking her hand again. “They definitely will.”

Her pulse kicked as he tugged her fingers, pulling her closer like he had her on a string. “Why isn’t that a problem?”

“Because.” He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ve decided not to let it be a problem.” He touched her knuckles with his lips. “It would be crazy not to give in to this chemistry, don’t you think?”

She stared at him, not really sure what “crazy” was anymore.

“Don’t you feel it, too?” he asked.

What, the dry mouth, a racing pulse, weak knees, and the female version of affected? Yeah, she felt it all over. “A little,” she admitted.

“A little?”

A lot. “I definitely thought—think—you’re attractive. And terrifying,” she added impulsively.

“Tessa.” He pulled her hand closer to him, both hands around one of hers now. “This attraction is real. And powerful. And, please God, tell me it’s mutual.”

She couldn’t tell him anything. Because the warning bells in her head were ringing like it was Christmas and she shouldn’t have received this particular gift.

But why not? Didn’t she deserve that same kind of knee-weakening magnetism her friends felt when they’d met their one true loves?

One true love? What the hell was wrong with her?

“It’s not mutual?” he asked, the tiniest note of desperation in his voice.

“You move fast,” she finally said. “Way, way, way too fast.”

“That’s why I left. Because I know myself. I know when I feel something this powerful it isn’t something I can fool around with. I was—okay, I’m going to admit it, now. I was scared.”

Not a chance. “You don’t look like a guy who scares easily.”

“I don’t.” He lifted her fingers to his mouth and leaned closer for another knuckle-kiss. “But you scared me.”

“Why?”

“Because when I look into your eyes, I see…”

She silenced every warning bell, demanding them to stop and let her hear what it was this gorgeous, complicated, surprising, astonishing man saw when he looked into her eyes.

“A future.” He punctuated that with a kiss on her fingertips and, for a moment, Tessa died.

And then the bells rang so loud she didn’t even hear the waitress come to the table. What the hell? They hadn’t even ordered yet and he was talking about a future. The same man who’d evaporated when she used the words sperm donor the other night? Something was very, very wrong with this picture.

Maybe he’d gone too far. Up until “a future,” Ian really hadn’t lied, not technically. He really had left the kitchen because he couldn’t wrap his head around what was happening and she had affected him and he most certainly had been scared of her—at least of her questions. Even the two-by-four wasn’t a lie, although it hadn’t been in his pants. It was a metaphorical plank that slammed sense into his head.

That was why he’d run off.

So everything was true, more or less. Until that last declaration. The only future he saw when he looked into her eyes was his, with Sam and Shiloh. He saw a means to an end and, damn, that made him a heartless bastard.

“A future?” From the cynicism in her voice, she wasn’t buying. “This is the same guy who said, and I quote, ‘I’m not marriage material and I don’t do complicated.’”

Yep, he’d said that. “At that point, I really was thinking with my…” He glanced down. “You know what.”

“And you’re not anymore?”

“Not entirely.” Of course, he’d do his level best not to be a complete asshole about the whole thing, but he had to work in certain parameters: He couldn’t hint at the truth and he had to work fast.

He lifted his glass. “Let’s toast, Tessa.”

“I will not drink to a future,” she said dryly. “But I will drink to a man who knows his way around a good line.”

“It’s not a line,” he said softly. “But if it will make you give me a chance, I’ll drink to something less intimidating than the future. How about we drink to a fresh start?”

“Your new job?”

“And our new”—he dinged the glass and went with it—“romance.”

She smiled as she brought the glass to her mouth, sipping a little, but laughing more.

“What? We can’t have a romance?”

“It’s old-fashioned,” she said. “And sounds incredibly out of place on a man who has horror-movie tattoos and is built like a human lethal weapon.”

“Hey, I flounced, remember?”

She laughed again, already a wee bit more relaxed, and it was too soon to be the wine. All very encouraging, plus she was even prettier when her shoulders weren’t so taut and her smile didn’t waver.

“Give me a shot, Tessa. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“A shot at what? To do something about how affected you are?”

“Absolutely not.” Okay, that sounded ridiculous. “Well, of course I’m physically invested, but—”

She lifted a brow. “Who says things like ‘physically invested’?”