rangy body beside her. It was silly, embarrassing, but she melted a little at just the sight of him and that stirred her temper because he didn’t feel the same way. “Why are you here, Kent?”
“I’m actually not certain,” he admitted.
Flattering. “Well go be not certain somewhere else, would you?” She tried to move away, but he stopped her, put his big hands on her arms and looked deep into her eyes. “You’re making this difficult.”
“
“I care about you,” he said carefully, making her go absolutely still. “Very much.”
Her heart simply stopped.
“And I want you in my life, but-”
With an abrupt thump, her heart started again. “No.” She stood up, backed away. Dammit, not again. Her ticker couldn’t take this roller-coaster ride. “No buts.”
With a grip of gentle steel Kent held her still, made her look at him.
She broke free and stared at him. “You
“I thought-”
When he found himself talking to her back, he groaned. Becca didn’t care, she kept going, heading directly for her car, but despite his limp, he passed her and blocked the door. She tried to evade him, but it was like trying to go around a pit bull. A six-foot tall, one-hundred-seventy-five pound pit bull with determination and grim regret blazing from his gaze.
“Don’t you want to know why?” he demanded.
Because it was useless trying to get past him, she blew a stray hair out of her face and glared at him. “Okay, I’ll play. Why did you come instead of Summer?”
“Leaning on Summer to create an image of yourself isn’t necessary.” Ruthlessly, he held her gaze even when she felt the blush of embarrassment creep up her face. “You don’t need to look perfect to change your life- style.”
“Then why don’t you want me?” she blurted out, then covered her face. “Forget I said that. I have no idea why I-”
“I want you,” he assured her. “But there’s more than just wanting involved here.”
Thinking was difficult since he’d somehow managed to plaster his body to hers again, all his tough, ready muscles to her softer, more giving body. He felt big. Hard. Sexy. But it was his scent that did it; his familiar, male scent that had her yearning and aching, and far too close to tears. To lose it now, in front of him, would just top off the day. Again, she tried to turn away, but with a heart-breaking wordless murmur, Kent pulled her even closer, slid those incredible hands of his over her back, then cupped her head, so that her face was pressed to his throat.
“Let me go,” she whispered shakily. “You don’t want to be here.”
“I can understand why you’d think that, seeing as I’ve been an ass, but I really do want to hold you.”
Pride demanded she resist, but he paid no attention to that, just continued to hold her tight, one hand softly, gently, rubbing her spine, his other stroking her hair as he gave her a hug that wrenched at her emotions as nothing else could have.
For that moment, she felt so protected. So cherished. But the compassion, the utter empathy pouring from his gaze, humiliated her.
“You’re important to me,” he said when she struggled free. “I don’t want to lose you, Bec.”
“But you don’t want to keep me, either.”
“Define
“A commitment.”
He tilted his head. “The let’s-go-out-to-dinner-every-Friday-night kind of commitment, or the let-me-park-a- toothbrush-in-your-bathroom kind of commitment?”
Hating the sudden neediness that swamped her, she closed her eyes. “Forget it. Okay? Just forget it. It’s not your fault, I changed the rules on you in the middle of the game, wanting more than you can give. Not very fair of me, I know, but I can’t seem to help myself. But I really need you to just drop it. Right here, right now.”
She turned away then, she had no choice, not when her own emotions were so dangerously close to the surface. Not when, with the slightest encouragement from him, she would have followed him to the ends of the earth.
THE KNOCK came at dinnertime. Becca glared at her front door, certain it was Summer coming to make amends for being a no-show that morning.
But Becca wasn’t ready to make amends, even if she did know most of her anger was self-directed. She’d had plenty of time to dwell on that since she hadn’t gone to work. “A mental health day,” she’d told Cookie when she’d called in.
She’d convinced herself she deserved it because she’d never taken a personal or sick day before.
At first, she’d attempted to distract herself with reading. Then with school work. But nothing could make her forget how she’d left things with Kent. She didn’t want to think about the hurt in his dark, lovely eyes, or what would happen now.
To take her mind off her troubles, she’d gone shopping, thinking it was time for yet another adventure.
She’d purchased a mountain bike, and it sat in her living room, shiny and inviting.
Another knock came, far less tentative than the first one.
With all her frustration, Becca yanked open the door, but everything she’d planned to say to her sister died on her tongue.
Kent stood there, one arm braced on the jamb, the other low on his hip. He wore all black: black long-sleeved shirt, black jeans, black boots. His dark hair was ruffled, as if it had been shoved back from his face by agitated fingers. In the dim light of the early evening, even his blue eyes looked black.
He was bad attitude personified.
Automatically, her heart responded, begged her to reach out to him, but her brain intercepted with good sense just in the nick of time.
Silent, he straightened and held out the hand that had been braced against her door. Wildflowers.
He’d brought her wildflowers.
Disarmed by the gesture, Becca took them, automatically lifting them to her nose to inhale their beautiful, exotic scent.
He hadn’t smiled, not once, but his gaze was soaking in the sight of her in a way that made her anger turn. Instead she became hot and trembly. Confused.
“Missed you at work,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
He waited, but when she just looked at him, he said, “Are you going to invite me in?”
His expression was nothing short of fierce. His body was so tense she could see each and every muscle delineated beneath his shirt and jeans. Not for the first time she wondered, a bit wildly, how a desk-bound chemist managed to look so mouth-wateringly magnificent.
“Yes or no, Becca.”
Never had she sensed such a temper in him, and even though he held it perfectly in check, it gave her pause. He hadn’t made one move toward her, but she backed up a step just the same. “I don’t think coming in would be a good idea-” She began, but squeaked in surprise and nearly swallowed her words when he simply picked her up and set her aside, giving him room to walk past her.
“Well, gee,” she said dryly, slamming the door. “Come on in-” The sarcastic words backed up in her throat when he put his big, warm hands on her arms and set her against the closed front door.
“You know you’re driving me crazy, right?” he asked roughly.
“Kent-”
That was the last word she managed to get out before his mouth came down on hers.
