“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever humiliated myself in that way.” And if she had to do such a thing, why couldn’t she have done it with someone else?
“I can’t say that’s anything to pride yourself on,” he said. “It’s hard to humiliate yourself in front of others if you never hang out with anyone to begin with.”
“I have friends!”
“That you go out and have a good time with? Or are we talking about an occasional intellectual discussion—an intellectual discussion about, wait for it, deviant behavior. I’m sure that’s just what you need. More examples of men who have raped, murdered and maimed.”
She fisted her hands on her hips. “I’m not sure you can use last night as an example to show me what I’ve been missing all these years.”
“You could be more cautious next time—now that you’re aware of your limits. Most people figure that out when they’re teenagers, but...”
“But I didn’t go through my teen years the way most everyone else did. Yes, I know.”
He tossed her lap quilt aside and sat up. “You did great last night, by the way. Everyone liked you.”
She couldn’t help feeling gratified by that comment. “Do you think I won over the people who damaged Hanover House?”
“Tough to tell, but in this small of a town, I’m sure word will spread that you’re not as bad as you seem. It was a step in the right direction.”
Although it required some effort, she lifted her eyes from his chest where they tended to drift without her express permission. “Would you like some coffee—and maybe some oatmeal?”
“Oatmeal?” He grimaced. “How about eggs and bacon? Or biscuits and gravy?”
“I don’t have any eggs and bacon or—or biscuits and gravy.”
“Figures. You’re even uptight when it comes to food.”
She blinked at him. “Is there something wrong with oatmeal?”
“It’s just so...healthy.” He looked around as if he wanted to put on his shirt but couldn’t find it.
“You must’ve thrown it away,” she said.
“Thrown it away?”
“Aren’t you looking for your shirt?”
“I was. But now that I remember, I put it in the washer along with your jacket.”
Her jacket? Oh no! It would be ruined! It needed to be dry-cleaned, but she didn’t say anything about that. “I’ll move it to the dryer for you.”
“Great. While we wait for it to dry, and you make me that delicious oatmeal you promised, can I use your shower?”
Her heart skipped a beat at the prospect of Amarok stripping off those jeans. He looked amazing in them, but she had no doubt he’d look even better without them—which was another scary thought, at least for her.
“I can let you hold my gun, if it makes you feel any better about allowing a man in your shower,” he said when she hesitated.
She laughed. “Stop it. I was drunk when I asked for your gun.”
“You didn’t just ask for it. You demanded it. Wouldn’t go to bed without it.”
“I can’t believe you let me have it! You realize I was drunk, right?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of bullets. “Exactly why I unloaded it first.”
She let her jaw drop in mock outrage. “You gave me a false sense of security?”
She thought he might grin. She knew he could tell she was teasing, but he sobered instead. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
Her heart began to race for no apparent reason—actually, there was a reason, and she knew what it was, but she wasn’t willing to accept it.
She cleared her throat. “Yeah, well, thanks for that, but you should’ve left. If something like that ever happens again—which it won’t—feel free to dump me on the doorstep.”
“I promised to take care of you, remember? I would never dump you on the doorstep.”
She wasn’t sure how to take that statement. To save herself from having to decide, she gestured toward the bathroom. “There’s a shower down the hall. Actually, wait. There isn’t any soap or shampoo in that one. I haven’t stocked it since...well, since there’s probably no need to ever stock it. I’ll get what you need.”
He cut her off before she could reach the hall. “There’s no need to move anything. I’ll use the one you use.”
Acutely aware of how close they were standing, she backed away. “Sure. Okay. Whatever you want.”
He didn’t move. He just watched her intently.
“What?”
His nostrils flared slightly. “What if I want you?” he asked point blank.
Her heart jumped into her throat. She’d assumed they’d attribute what she’d done on the dance floor last night to the alcohol and never mention it again, never refer to the feelings it’d stirred. “Definitely do yourself a favor and look for someone else,” she said. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m totally screwed up.”