She’d been curled up on the couch, fuming, for almost an hour when she heard Sean’s truck pull into the drive. It was another ten minutes before he crept into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Since she was facing the back of the couch, she didn’t have to make much of an effort to ignore him.
He was in the shower so long she must have fallen asleep to the drone of running water because the next thing Emma knew, her alarm was going off and it was time to face another day in the hell she’d created.
But first she had to face Sean. As usual, she got first crack at the bathroom and when she came out, he was sitting on the side of the bed, fully clothed. Thank goodness.
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “We should talk about last night.”
“How’s Kevin?”
“He’s good. And I meant before that.”
“You should have stayed for the end of the movie. It was good.”
“Dammit, Emma, you know that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Oh, you mean the practice kiss?” She clipped her cell phone onto her front pocket. “We’re getting better at it. That was almost convincing.”
“Practice kiss?” He stood, probably so he could look down at her, but she was tall enough so it didn’t make much of an impact. “Almost convincing?”
“Yeah,” she said, though she turned her back on him, heading toward the door to avoid eye contact because that was no practice kiss and it could have convinced even the CIA’s finest.
He was muttering when she left the room, but she shut the door on him and went downstairs. She didn’t want to talk about it. And she didn’t want to think about the fact he wasn’t happy she called it a practice kiss.
That meant he considered it a real kiss. And not only a real kiss, but one that had shaken him up. The only reason kissing a woman should bother a man like him was if he was trying to fight being attracted to her.
Hopefully he’d win, she thought as she headed toward the kitchen, because she was waging that battle herself and didn’t appear to be headed for a victory. Maybe he had enough willpower and self-control for both of them.
Other than a little morning chit-chat with Gram, neither of them spoke as they ate breakfast and headed off to work—with him driving her truck again. But after ten minutes on the road with fifteen more to go, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Why are you mad at me?”
He didn’t look at her. “I’m not mad.”
“You’re not happy.”
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “That was no practice kiss.”
“I know it wasn’t. I was trying to give us a reason not to talk about it.”
“Oh. So you don’t think we should talk about it?”
“I thought guys hated talking things out.”
He drummed his fingers on the wheel. “I just don’t want you getting any ideas, that’s all.”
Getting any ideas? Emma was speechless for a moment, unable to believe he’d actually said that. “Since I was walking away from you when you spun me around and kissed me, I’d say you’re the one getting ideas.”
“Of course I’m getting ideas. You’re hot and I’m not dead. But I know enough not to confuse lust with anything else.”
She snorted and looked out her window. “Oh yes, Sean Kowalski. Your amazing kisses have made all rational thought fly out of my besotted brain. If only you could fill me with your magic penis, I know we’ll fall madly in love and live happily ever after.”
The truck jerked and she glanced over to find him glaring at her. “Don’t ever say that again.”
“What? The madly in love or the happily ever after?”
“My penis isn’t magic.” His tone was grumpy, but then he smiled at the windshield. “It does tricks, though.”
“The only trick your penis needs to know for the next three and a half weeks is down boy.” How the hell had she gotten herself into this conversation? “To get back to the point, if you think I have any interest in a real relationship with a guy who thinks he’s a better driver than me just because I have breasts, you’re insane.”
“It’s not because you have breasts. Women don’t drive as well because they lack a magic penis.”
She turned toward the passenger door, letting him know with her body language she had no interest in talking to him anymore. “Why didn’t I tell Gram I was dating Bob from the post office?”
He laughed at her. “You’ve met the Kowalskis. You were doomed the minute you said the name out loud.”
Doomed, she thought, glaring at the passing scenery. That was a good word for it.
Chapter Nine
“Oh, what a lovely home!”
Sean pulled into his aunt and uncle’s driveway and killed the engine. “Thanks, Cat. My cousin Joe bought it for them after his horror novels started landing on the New York Times’ bestseller list on a regular basis.”
“It’s big, which must come in handy with all those grandchildren.”