Will was standing at the far end of the bar. Their eyes locked. He looked good, she thought, telling her heart to stop pounding so hard. Really good.
Still watching her, he crossed the line no customer crossed and stepped behind the bar. Purposefully, he moved toward her, intent dark in his eyes.
“This is bullshit,” he told her, then grabbed her upper arms, pulled her close and kissed her.
She felt the contact all the way down to her toes. Long-dormant nerve endings raised their heads and gave a little giggle. Her lungs stopped working, as did her brain. There was only the warm, sexy feel of Will’s mouth on hers.
In the back of her mind she was aware of the bar going completely silent. In all the years Jo had lived in Fool’s Gold no one had ever seen her with a man. And for good reason—she hadn’t been on a date, let alone kissed anyone.
He drew back. “Go ahead,” he said. “Yell at me.”
A second later, conversation resumed around them. She was sure it was mostly forced, as people tried to listen without listening.
“I don’t yell,” she told him, then walked toward the storeroom.
He followed.
When they were inside, she flipped on the lights then closed the door, giving them a little more privacy. He moved toward her, but she held up her hand to stop him.
“Wait.”
“No.” He sounded firm and his expression was determined. “I’m not going anywhere, Jo. I’m not that kind of guy. I like you. I’m just asking for the chance for you to like me, too.”
He spoke as if he meant it, which was damned unfair. How was she supposed to resist a line like that? Except it wasn’t a line, which made the whole thing worse. And amazing.
“You are going somewhere,” she reminded him. “When the resort is done, you’re leaving.”
He swore under his breath. “Sure. That’s years away. You’ll be tired of me by then. If not, we’ll figure something out. I can learn to deal blackjack.”
His easy discussion of the future floored her. How could he say those things, imply that this was more than just a night of sex?
He stared into her eyes. “I’m not that guy.”
The implication being she was worried about “that guy.” She wondered what he’d heard. Which of the various rumors had been shared with him. There were so many and everyone had his or her favorites.
He thought she was worried about him leaving. That she was afraid of falling in love and being abandoned. If only he knew the truth. His leaving wasn’t her problem. He wasn’t her problem. The trouble went much deeper than that.
“No one hit me,” she told him flatly. “In case that’s what you were thinking.”
His mouth twisted. “Good to know. Now I don’t have to hunt the bastard down and beat the shit out of him.”
She was pretty sure he meant it. That he was the kind of man who protected what was his. A good man. Someone she in no way deserved.
“I don’t want forever,” she told him. “I’m only interested in right now.”
“I can do now.”
Maybe, but he wasn’t looking for a fling, she thought with a certainty she couldn’t explain. He wanted more than a night. She wasn’t sure she could promise that, but she also wasn’t sure she could resist what he offered.
She thought about what it would feel like to be with him, to have him hold her, and she ached. Some of the longing was about sex, but most of it was about connecting in a way she hadn’t allowed herself in years.
“I have a cat,” she told him.
“Everyone has a flaw.”
She smiled. “He’s a pretty cool cat. You’re going to like him.” She pulled her keys out of her jeans pocket and handed them over, then gave him her address. “I’ll be done here in about an hour.”
He took the keys, then leaned in and lightly kissed her.
“You can trust me,” he whispered, before he straightened and walked out.
Trusting him wasn’t the problem, she thought, watching him go. The real question was whether or not he could trust her.
NEVADA WANTED to spend the weekend avoiding Tucker. She wasn’t sure she could explain the logic to him, but it made sense to her, and that was what mattered. Not that it was an issue, because he was nowhere to be seen. That was very annoying. Shouldn’t he have come looking for her? After all, they’d had sex in the trailer. Conventional wisdom required a conversation after that. On a different topic, shouldn’t he want to know how things were going with Cat?
Or was that where he was? With Cat, in her bed, restarting his obsessive relationship with the other woman.
Even though she didn’t want to think about the two of them together, Nevada kept getting herself worked up over the possibility. She tried to put her energy to good use by cleaning her place and taking long walks in town. By Sunday afternoon, she was ready to jump out of her skin.