“Go for it. You’ve earned it.”
The server appeared a minute or so later and took their orders. When they were alone again, Tucker poured her more wine.
“Do you know anything about Máa-zib history?” he asked. “I never knew they worked with gold.”
“I didn’t either. Most of the stories around here are about how they were a matriarchal society who didn’t have much interest in men.” She smiled. “Except for the business of getting pregnant.”
“A romantic bunch, then.” He took a sip of his wine. “My mother was the one with the most Máa-zib blood. If she ever talked about what she knew, Dad’s forgotten and no one in his family ever told him stories. I asked him a few years ago and he couldn’t remember her ever saying anything.”
“You were young when she died.”
“I don’t remember her at all,” he admitted. “There are a few vague images, but I suspect they come from my dad telling me about her, rather than me having memories of my own.”
“That must be difficult.”
“It’s all I know. I can’t miss what I never had.”
Probably true, she thought, but sad. “If she hadn’t died, would you and she have traveled with your dad? Or would you have been raised in one place?”
“I don’t know. I never thought about it.” He reached across the table and touched her hand. “I could have grown up in a place like Fool’s Gold.”
“There are worse fates.”
“I like it here. More than I thought I would. There’s a sense of community. Mayor Marsha can be a little rabid.”
She grinned. “She’s protective.”
“I’m glad she doesn’t carry a gun.”
The feel of his fingers brushing hers ignited nerve endings all over her body. Later, she thought. While she was sure Tucker would agree if she suggested they move the party upstairs, she found herself wanting to wait. Not only for the sense of anticipation, but because this was nice. Spending time with Tucker—like a regular couple.
As soon as the ideas formed in her mind, she reminded herself there was danger in thinking like that. They worked together, which was its own complication, and he didn’t believe in love. Not that they were at the love stage. Or even close to it.
Still, this was a good time to remind herself that getting involved would be stupid.
JO LAY ON HER SIDE, her body heavy with satisfaction, her mind quiet for once. Will stretched out beside her, facing her, his hand on her hip, his expression intense.
“I could get addicted to you,” she murmured.
“Good.”
Not good, she thought. Far from good. Falling for a man—she knew the danger. Still, now that she’d given in, she couldn’t convince herself to back off. Being with him was easy. Right. Talk about scaring the crap out of her…
Jake, her cat, jumped onto the bed. Being a typical feline, he ignored her and walked over to Will to be petted.
“Damn cat,” Will muttered, scratching behind the cat’s ears.
“You always say that, but you’re very good to him.”
“He’s okay. For a cat.”
She smiled. “You’re a softie. So tough on the outside, but it’s just an act.”
Instead of smiling, he kissed her.
“I love you.”
His words fell into the silence. They were unexpected and unwelcome.
Not love, she thought frantically, sitting up and pulling the sheet with her. Never love. They weren’t supposed to get that involved.
His mouth twisted. “Judging by the panic in your eyes,” he said gruffly, “this isn’t welcome news.”
She rolled off the bed and picked up her thong. After slipping it in place, she pulled on a T-shirt, then faced him.
“No. It’s not.”
“At least you’re honest.” He sat up, leaning against the headboard in her small bedroom. Pain darkened his eyes. “Want to tell me why?”
Annoyed that the scratching had ceased, Jake moved to the foot of the bed and began washing his face.
Will was a good man, Jo reminded herself. She’d always known that. He was kind and normal and he couldn’t possibly understand. Telling him the truth meant losing him. Not telling him probably meant the same. She’d hurt his feelings, the one thing she hadn’t wanted to do.
“You gonna spend the rest of your life hiding?” he asked. “What is it? Did somebody hurt you?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “It’s not going to work. If I tell you, everything will change.”
“No, it won’t. I’m not that guy.”
A claim he’d made before. But he was wrong. Everyone was that guy, she thought.
“Just tell me,” he insisted. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know what it is.”
“There’s no fixing. It’s my past and it can’t be undone. It simply is.”
He stared at her. “There’s nothing you can say to make me turn away. I love you. That’s not going to change.”