Things were awfully quiet. Not even the sounds of TV or music floated from the room as she moved toward the slightly ajar door and peeked in.
He was still propped against the headboard, his braced ankle resting on two pillows, but his eyes were closed. And despite the draw of his naked chest, an arresting sight even with the colorful bruises, it was the silky black cat draped across his lap that caused her feet to stop and her breath to hitch. The two gorgeous male specimens, sleeping like lazy panthers, brought a smile to her face.
Looked like Cowboy had found a kindred spirit—at least in sleep. She couldn’t help but envy the cat his spot. She’d love to curl up on top of Chance, feel his hard body, press her lips to his skin, and lick.
Her hands touched her warm cheeks. She hadn’t had thoughts like that in…years. Since she’d been with Chance. He’d had a knack for bringing out a wild side. But in reality, she’d been a frightened girl who’d been playing at being a woman.
And now? Maybe what she was doing here was finding out the answer to that question.
Not wanting to wake them, she tiptoed away, back down the hall toward the kitchen. She’d figure out for herself how to get that grill started. Nothing like the present to start down the road to independence.
She was halted by the vibrations of her phone. A glance at the screen showed it was Ben.
Her stomach pitched as she swiped a finger across the answer icon.
“Hi,” she said, trying to sound casual as she entered the kitchen. This was not going to be easy. She hadn’t told Ben where she was going. Or her father. Only Doug knew. How could she explain what she was doing here? Or why she was here—a question she was still trying to answer. And yet she didn’t want to lie.
Ben sounded excited and enthused. He’d gone out to one of the drill sites and had applied some of his geological knowledge.
“Two more weeks,” she acknowledged when he reminded her. What she was going to do after that she didn’t know. Maybe by then Chance wouldn’t need her, though given how much pain he was in, she doubted that. And then who would keep him from doing too much? Who would care for him?
“Nothing’s wrong,” she replied in answer to his question. “But something’s come up.” She took a deep breath. “A friend of mine hurt their foot and has to be laid up for a few weeks. No, you don’t know them. A friend from my high school days. Anyway, I’m going to help out for a bit since I’m not working yet and you’re in Texas.”
He asked if she had given any thought to moving in together when he came back to Gillette.
“I’ve given it some thought. But…” She had to tell him. She owed him that. She took a deep breath. “Ben, I’ve been thinking…about us.”
*
Luckily, Chance’s fancy grill had turned on with the ease of a stove, just like he’d promised. She had slid two steaks covered with onion salt and dipped in olive oil onto the grates and listened to the satisfying sizzle as she turned up the heat.
Heading back to the kitchen for the rest of the dinner, she surveyed the apple pie she’d baked that afternoon. The crust was done to a perfect golden brown. She’d been able to spend some time with her mother learning how to bake. She relished those memories. But it hadn’t been enough time for her to master a flaky pie crust. The frozen pie crust she’d bought at the grocer’s had been the answer.
She placed two potatoes, with fork-poked holes, in the microwave, set the timer, closed the door, and hit the start button before reaching for the bag of premixed salad and emptying it into a bowl. She cut wedges of tomatoes and sliced a cucumber, adding them to the mix. A little oil and balsamic vinegar provided the finishing touch. She stood back to assess, pleased she’d been able to conquer the meal duties.
Well, at least something might go right today.
The phone call with Ben certainly had not gone well. She’d told him she couldn’t move in with him and wasn’t sure when or if she could. The words had been hard to form, but she finally got them out. He’d been caught off guard, and his response was one of disbelief. He’d wanted to know what he’d done, and she had nothing to tell him beyond she’d been having second thoughts. He’d told her she wasn’t thinking straight and promised they’d work it out when he got back.
Maybe she wasn’t thinking straight, but thought had little to do with what she was feeling—or not feeling.
She’d felt like the worst kind of person, having that sort of discussion over the phone. But it wasn’t fair to string Ben along when just the sight of Chance had pushed him out of her thoughts.
Being perfect on paper, she now knew, wasn’t enough.