Roan ruthlessly looked at himself, his part in all of this. He needed alone time to sift through the deeper meaning and his reaction toward Shiloh.
The door to her bedroom opened and he cast a glance over his shoulder as he placed the fried trout onto a platter. She came into the kitchen, and he saw that she’d dried her hair and it was captured into a loose knot on top of her head. The clean pale-green tee made his lower body clench. And even though she wore a pair of white capris, her slender legs made him want to run his hand down them. In the capris Shiloh looked like a young girl with bare feet. Smiling to himself, Roan focused on the food. One moment, a woman. The next, a young girl. He liked discovering Shiloh’s quicksilver facets.
“How can I help?” she asked.
“Set the table?” Roan glanced over to see the dark green of her eyes, understanding she was still processing what had happened between them too. “Maud left us some fresh trout in the fridge. Thought we’d have that, some peas, and a salad?”
“Sounds great. I’m starved.”
So was he. For her. Roan didn’t say anything. He wanted to kiss her again. Take her all the way. Placing his considerable patience online, he told himself their relationship, or whatever he wanted to call it, was complicated. Shiloh was complex.
The pleasant clink of plates and flatware made Roan realize just how lonely he’d become before Shiloh had stepped unexpectedly into his life. She moved quietly, saying nothing, but he could feel her warm, feminine presence just the same. This made Roan realize what he was missing in life: a relationship.
Shaking his head, he brought the veggies from the fridge to make them into a salad. Since when had he ever wanted a long-term relationship with a woman? He wasn’t thinking a week or even a month with Shiloh Gallagher. He was thinking a lifetime. His heart clearly was not in sync with his head. Neither was his body. Her bold kiss vividly told him what he’d never really found. Until now. Until Shiloh.
Taking a deep breath, Roan ordered himself to stand down. Her soft mouth had dismantled him on every conceivable level. He hadn’t been thinking about kissing her. His mind was focused on that porch. Did he like having her company while they installed it? Yes. It was new. It was . . . well . . . amazing. She had a way of getting inside walls he kept well in place around him. Shiloh was like silent fog stealing over the landscape of himself, subtly infiltrating him as a man before he ever realized it. And once he did, it was too late.
Roan didn’t put the blame for the kiss on Shiloh. It had just HAPPENED. As if the chemistry had built and built, and the explosion that occurred as a result had taken them both by surprise. He wondered if Shiloh felt the same. Roan honestly didn’t know. Her green eyes were always alive with intelligence, but he couldn’t read her penetrating mind. Or her heart. Now, he wished he could.
Within minutes, Roan had everything assembled for their dinner. Shiloh had taken the bowls of salad over to the table and he brought the fish and a dish of steaming peas slathered with fresh basil leaves in melted butter. She had thoughtfully brought out a half dozen of his biscuits left over, warmed them in the microwave, and placed the butter and honey next to them. Shiloh knew how much he liked his homemade biscuits and he smiled to himself.
As Roan pulled her chair out for her to sit down, he said, “How are your hands?”
Shiloh shrugged. “A few blisters is all.” She opened them as he sat down, showing her palms to him. “No big deal.”
Roan settled into the chair and gently held one of her hands, looking at two small blisters caused by the nail gun she’d used all day. Her skin was soft. Fragrant. His nostrils flared, catching the scent of her lilac soap combined with the shampoo Shiloh had used. “You should have let me do most of the work,” he said, reluctantly releasing her hand. He opened his palm, showing her the thick calluses created by constant hard work around the ranch. “I’ve already built the calluses up to protect my skin.”
“I’ll just put Band-Aids on them and they’ll be fine.” Shiloh placed one trout on her plate.
“Did you get blisters when you worked on those other homes?” he wondered. It was a special hell watching her graceful movements as she added a hefty amount of peas to her dish.
“Always.” Shiloh smiled a little. “I’ve got a sedentary career, sitting in a chair for hours at a time. When I volunteer to work on a house, the first couple of weeks my palms are a mess, but after that, I get calluses and I’m fine for the duration.”
Roan put two trout on his plate, leaving the last one for Shiloh. She needed to eat more, but he said nothing. “I’m going out tomorrow morning to work on the cabin.” He wanted to ask her to come along, but thought better of it, not wanting Shiloh to feel as if he expected anything of her. She’d warned him off and he respected that.