“I don’t know what you mean, but of course I’m like them. We’re identical. We have the exact same DNA.”
He swore quietly. What had, until this second, been a game he’d wanted to win had just gotten a whole lot more serious.
“What?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
Disappointed didn’t begin to describe the reality of knowing he could never have her. Nevada was all sass and temptation. Smart, funny and skilled with a backhoe. Did it get any better than that?
He’d imagined them in bed, naked, hungry. He’d wanted to know what it felt like to please her, to have her screaming his name. Sure, that was a lot of male ego, but he didn’t think wanting to please her was a hanging offense. But now, everything was different.
“I’m not that guy,” he said flatly.
She shrugged her shoulders. “What guy?”
“The white picket fence guy—Finn, Simon. I’m the guy who doesn’t get involved. I did that once and I’m not going back. It’s hell.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re a little dramatic today. What you felt for Cat wasn’t love. It was…” Her eyes widened. “Oh. You’re not talking generalities. You’re talking about us. Not that there is an us.”
“There’s an us.”
“Okay.”
She shifted in her seat. “I wasn’t expecting you to marry me just because we slept together. Not that we’ve done that, either.”
“We were going to.”
Color flared on her cheeks. “I hadn’t decided.”
He had and he’d been confident in his ability to convince her it was a good idea. Not anymore, he thought grimly. He liked her and respected her enough not to play games.
“You were right to say our work relationship had to come first,” he told her. “That we shouldn’t get personally involved. I was wrong to push. This project is important to me and you’re a key member of my team. I won’t forget that again.”
An emotion chased across her face. He couldn’t read it, nor could he guess. Relief made the most sense. Assuming his disappointment was more about his own ego than it was about her.
“Okay, then,” she murmured, then glanced at her watch. “I’m supposed to meet my sisters to strategize about our meeting with Mom. I’ll pass on the coffee.”
“Sure.”
She collected her keys and purse, then left.
He watched her go, wondering if she really had to be somewhere or if she was trying to get away from him. In the end, he knew it didn’t matter. From time to time he might be a bastard, just like every other guy on the planet, but he was determined to do the right thing when it came to Nevada.
BY THE NEXT MORNING Nevada had nearly convinced herself that Tucker was smart to insist they return to a “business only” relationship. The decision was sensible and easier in the long run. If she was a tiny bit annoyed that he didn’t find her irresistible, well, that was something she would have to get over. If she was sad that there wouldn’t be any more amazing kisses, that was a fact she would deal with over time. It wasn’t as if she’d fallen for him or anything.
She walked up to the front porch of her mom’s house. The door opened before she reached it. Dakota and Montana were waiting for her.
“How is she?” Nevada asked.
“Still hysterical and insisting she’s moving.” Dakota sighed. “And we’ve only been here for about three minutes. This isn’t going to be a fun conversation.”
“None of us thought it would be.”
Nevada followed her sisters into the kitchen, where they found their mother frantically scrubbing an already clean sink.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Denise announced when she turned toward them, her sponge dripping on the floor. “You can’t change my mind. I’m not marrying Max.”
The sisters looked at each other, then back at her.
Dakota spoke first. “It’s okay, Mom. None of us were telling you to marry Max.”
Denise returned her attention to the sink. After rinsing it, she attacked the counters. “Good, because I’m not going to. I was married to your father. He was my husband, and that’s not going to change.”
“I don’t understand,” Nevada admitted. “Why are you acting as if we’re all insisting you accept Max’s proposal? Why does anything have to change?”
“He won’t understand,” Denise said, moving to the cooktop and removing burners. “He’ll be upset.”
“Max?” Montana asked.
“Yes. I don’t want that.”
“You think he’ll be happier with you moving out of town?” Dakota asked softly.
Denise dropped the sponge and seemed to crumple in on herself. She returned to the sink, peeled off her purple gloves, then started to cry.
“I can’t do this,” she sobbed. “I’m too old to fall in love again. Or re-in love.”