“You had me worried there for a second.” More like several seconds. Or a minute. It had taken her some time to erase the image of him in a heap from her mind.
Ty shook his head. “I now get how addictive that rush of adrenaline is. If I was younger, I just might compete. On broncs, though, not bulls.”
“Well then, I’m glad you are older and wiser.” She took an ear of corn and bit into it, enjoying the sweet kernels.
“I am older. Not sure about wiser.” He chuckled and took another sip of wine. More like a gulp. He grabbed the bottle and poured some more, topping off his glass. One thing about riding a horse after drinking, if you weren’t drunk enough to fall off, the horse would likely get you home in one piece. But she had to wonder why Ty was drinking so quickly.
Stripping her ear of kernels and having made a solid attempt to finish her chicken breast, she began to pack up the remnants while Ty finished off another breast. Clearly her appetite wasn’t that of a pregnant woman, but it would be a few weeks before her next cycle, before she would know for sure. There was still time. She needn’t panic—yet.
Ty’s pieces of chicken were now nothing but bone. She watched as he swiped a napkin across his chin, a satisfied grin on his face. He threw the trash into the large tub, closed it up, and packed it away. She followed, putting everything back except the water bottle. Ty poured more wine into his glass and took a long draw, his eyes looking her over from head to toe and back again. Any other place, and she’d be up for some spectacular sex, but here she felt on edge, as if any second he was going to tell her he had to leave.
She was no longer worried about the company. If no one, including Lassiter, had made an offer by now, it wasn’t likely any other stock contractor would step forward at this late date. Just securing financing could take a while. No, it wasn’t the company she was worried about. It was her heart.
He settled behind her, his big body sliding against hers as he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her into his lap. Was he holding her in case she fell apart?
He felt warm and hard, and she should feel secure in his embrace. She didn’t.
He nuzzled her neck, and she detected the scent of liquor, which was probably responsible for the intimate moment.
He kissed the side of her neck. A little tingle spread within her. “My condo sold,” he said.
“That’s good. Right?” She wasn’t sure. If he put his house on the market when he thought he’d be working at Prescott for two years, he might not be so happy that it sold.
“I think so. Do you?” He nibbled her ear.
She twisted a little so she could see him. He’d opened the top button of his shirt, exposing his clavicle and the base of his throat “Yes.” She guessed she was happy. For him. She didn’t know what it meant for them.
“So I won’t have a place to go to when the six months are up.” His tongue trailed down the side of her throat.
“No. I don’t suppose you will,” she said, wondering where he was taking this and trying not to let her imagination fill her with hope.
“So I was thinking…”
She wanted to know what he was thinking. And whom he was thinking about.
“Maybe I could stay on. With you. For a while longer.” He feathered kisses down her neck, and his hands cupped her breasts.
“How much longer?” she wasn’t sure what he was asking, but it didn’t sound like a marriage proposal. Not that she expected one, but she’d definitely imagined one.
She felt one of his shoulders raise and lower. “I don’t know. For as long as it feels right.”
That sounded very open ended…and vague. “Feels right for whom?”
“For both of us.”
It would relieve some of the anxiety that had been building inside of her, dreading the day he’d leave and wondering what would happen if she wasn’t pregnant. But putting off the inevitable wasn’t a commitment or a declaration of love. Once again it was simply convenient for him.
He kneaded her breasts as he kissed the base of her neck, and she involuntarily leaned back. “There’s no hurry…right?” he asked. His tongue tickled her ear, and desire pulsed inside of her.
“What about your job? Don’t you have to get back to it?”
Behind her he took a breath. “I quit my job six months ago, before I agreed to help Prescott.”
She’d tried to process what he said, but she couldn’t understand what would make him do it. “Why?”