“You got it.”
Seth returns a moment later with a crisp glass of Riesling and places it before me atop a cardboard pub coaster.
“You play pool?” he asks, grabbing himself a beer.
“I play a little pool.” I wink.
“Best out of three?” He takes a drink from his can before grabbing a couple of pool sticks, making his way around the pool table with unrushed confidence, and I can’t help but wonder if he moves that way between the sheets …
“You have no idea what you’re going up against,” I tease, promptly removing my mind from the gutter. Daydreaming can get a girl in trouble, and I’m not looking for any trouble—not yet anyway.
“Oh, yeah? You a regular pool shark?” He racks the balls and rolls the cue ball my way.
Bending at the waist, I slide my pool stick awkwardly between my fingers and completely miss the cue ball.
Seth chuckles. “I knew you were bluffing.”
“You still want to play?”
“Here, let me help you.” He comes around the table, standing behind me and wrapping his arms around me. When his hands slide down mine, my heart flutters so fast I lose my concentration. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that he’s ridiculously hot or the fact that he’s touching me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “So it’s going to be nice and smooth … like this.”
The cue ball hits the center of the rack and the balls disperse. A striped ball lands in a corner pocket.
“If you need any more help, let me know,” he says.
“You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” I reach for my wine, pretending to be insulted.
“Hell yeah, I’d love it. What hot-blooded American man wouldn’t enjoy being that close to a gorgeous girl like you?”
“The flattery is completely unnecessary. And a major distraction. You’re just trying to throw me off my game.”
He shoots a solid yellow ball into another corner pocket, cool and effortless. “Your turn.”
Sliding my stick across the green felt, I accidentally hit the cue ball so hard it skips off the table and rolls across the room.
“That’s exactly what I was going for, so ...” I reach for my wine.
“Right.” He smirks, his eyes full of amusement.
“I wish I could blame it on the alcohol, but unfortunately I’m barely feeling this drink.”
Seth retrieves the ball and returns to my side. “Here. Let me show you one more time.”
His body presses warm against the back of mine, his arms around me once more. Sliding his hands down my arms with slow intention, he stops when his hands find mine.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
His left hand moves down my side, gripping me at the hip and turning me to face him.
Before I have a chance to process what’s happening, his hand cups the side of my face and his mouth closes in on mine.
“Seth.” I turn my face away, biting my lower lip. His beer breath fills my lungs and lingers on my lips.
“I’m sorry.” He exhales, though I don’t know if he’s more frustrated with himself … or me.
“I know we were flirting and having fun and everything, but I—
“Leighton, it’s fine,” he says, head cocked. “I got impatient, and I couldn’t resist. I’m not going to kiss you if you don’t want me to.”
Relieved, I nod. “Thank you. I appreciate that. It’s just that I’m leaving, and I could see myself really liking you, and I don’t want to kiss you because then I might get attached. That, and I’m just not in a place to get involved with anyone right now.”
The other night, at the butte, I got caught up in the experience, surrounded by beautiful scenery and a charming man with stars in his eyes every time he looked at me. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to capture a sweet moment and take it home with me.
But not anymore.
I don’t want to so much as risk getting attached.
My life is complicated enough as it is.
And I don’t even want to begin to think about why the hell River’s face flashed across my mind the second Seth’s lips touched mine.
“Hey, don’t even explain it. No means no. I get it.”
“In this case, no means … I wish I could, and I’m sorry that I can’t.”
“I’m sorry too.”
Taking a step toward him, I place my hand on his cheek. “Thank you for being so … understanding. A true gentleman.”
He smiles, his eyes falling to my mouth before returning to my watchful gaze. He wants to kiss me again. If things were different, I’d let him. I’d let him do a lot of things to me …
He’s charming and kind and considerate. If I were in the market for a fresh relationship, he’d be first on the list.
“Let’s get back to the game,” I say, eyeing the pool table. “I’m in a mood to kick some ass.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a terrible bluffer?” he asks.
“All the time.” I wrinkle my nose.
“I want to take you out again before you leave,” he says. “Just for a ride. I’m restoring a sixty-five Shelby Cobra. Just waiting on one part and it should be up and running.” Seth peers up at me from across the table. “You want to be the first to ride in it with me?”
Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I shrug. “Sure. Why not?”
A harmless little drive never hurt anyone.
The house is dark when I return, except for the flicker of the TV in the living room. An infomercial flashes across the screen, the volume turned low. Sprawled out on the sofa is a sleeping River, his hat covering his face and his arms folded across his chest.
Carefully peeling his boots off his feet, I place them neatly by the foot of the couch. A pale blue throw is folded on the back of the recliner. I grab it and spread it over him. It hardly covers the length of his body, but it should keep him warm and comfortable until he wakes up and takes himself to bed.
River doesn’t move, doesn’t stir.
A wisp of dark hair covers his forehead, and I’m almost tempted to brush it away. This man spends every waking hour of his life so guarded and walled-off. He needs to be touched and cared for again, the way I imagine Allison did once upon a time.
I bet she was good to him.
I bet he loved the hell out of her.
A love like that from a man like this must’ve felt pretty powerful. I’d give anything to experience what that feels like, but I suspect only a lucky few will ever have the privilege.
Wiping a rogue tear from the corner of my eye, I click the TV off, whisper the quietest “goodnight,” and tiptoe upstairs.
Chapter Nineteen
River
I peek my head out from the shop when I hear the smooth purr of a truck engine and my dog barking up a storm. Leighton left for Molly’s not ten minutes ago, and I’m not expecting any deliveries.
Wiping my oil-stained hands on a shop rag, I head around the building and stop when I see my brother climbing down from his shiny new Ford.