“What are you going to do tomorrow?”
“Start putting up the railing.” Every cell in him wanted her to come along. Roan liked her quiet, feminine company. He had no fantasy about kissing Shiloh again. He’d promised to give her the room she needed. And frankly, she was stressed enough.
“What kind of wood will you use for the railing?”
“I’m using cedar. It’s insect-proof. I’ve got it stacked in the garage to keep it out of the elements and dry. The boards have to be straight.” And water always bent boards if they weren’t protected from the harsh elements. He watched her lashes lower as she consumed the trout. Damn, gazing at those lips of hers move as she ate was sending a twisting, needy ache straight down to his lower body. The woman was a certifiable riot to his body. She wrote romances. She had to know her effect on him. Didn’t she? Roan decided unhappily that Shiloh didn’t realize how she affected him at all. Reminding himself that if she’d only had three relationships in her life, her experience with men was limited. The same with sex. Or lust. Or . . . damn, his mind just wouldn’t get out of that life-changing kiss Shiloh had shared with him.
“Whenever I worked on a house crew, I built porches, railing, and then went inside and we started the interior work. I did insulation, drywall, and painting.”
“You’re multiskilled,” he teased, one corner of his mouth lifting as he met and held her gaze. Wanting to drown in those forest green eyes, Roan forced himself to break off contact. If he didn’t, he was going to give his soul to her. Could one kiss REALLY make him feel like this? He’d kissed plenty of women in his time, but no kiss had ever packed the punch, the depth, and the feverish heat that came with it when Shiloh shyly touched his lips in return.
Shrugging, Shiloh hungrily finished off the first trout. “I’m not any good at plumbing or electrical.” She offered him a small smile. “I’m always worried I’ll get electrocuted. You know, put the two wrong wires together and get zapped?”
He nodded. “Plumbing and electric are my specialties.”
“Good thing,” Shiloh said with a quiet laugh. “Because I have a healthy respect for electric. I stay away from it.”
“Did you get zapped once? Is that why you’re gun-shy?”
“No. It just scares me. No logical reason,” she said, shrugging.
“Take the second trout,” Roan urged, pointing his fork toward the platter. “You need to put some meat on your bones, Shiloh.” Her name rolled off his lips like an endearment.
“Thanks.”
Roan watched her lift the platter and slide the trout onto her plate. No matter what Shiloh did, it was done with grace. He wondered if she’d ever taken ballet lessons, but tamped down the question that almost flew out of his mouth. “Think you’ll work on your book tomorrow?”
“I’m not sure,” Shiloh admitted. “I’ve been ruminating on this great scene in my head, but I’m not sure it’s ready for birth yet.”
“Do you see your books as children?”
She lifted her chin, regarding him in the gathering silence. “Yes . . . I guess I do. I never thought of it like that.” Giving him a silly grin and tapping her head, she said, “Brain children.”
When Shiloh smiled, Roan’s heart widened like windows being thrown open to allow sunlight into his dark soul. She didn’t realize her effect on him, and a lot HAD happened between them, Roan acknowledged. Even more reason to keep their conversation light and keep things status quo like before the kiss. Roan realized he was now going to be looking at Shiloh, at their situation as “before the kiss” and “after the kiss.” Unhappy with his heart that truly had an emotional mind of its own, he put his emptied plate aside and dug into the large salad.
*
Shiloh awoke slowly, the sun stealing around the edges of the curtains. Rubbing her eyes, she turned over, looking at the small round clock on the bed stand. It was nine A.M.! The house was quiet and she realized as she pulled off the covers, her feet touching the cool cedar flooring, that Roan had left many hours earlier. Probably at dawn. He was used to getting up as darkness was giving way to the coming day.
Pushing hair out of her eyes, Shiloh sat in her lavender cotton nightgown, struggling to wake up. She didn’t wake up fast in the morning, anyway, needing that cup of coffee to jolt her back to reality.