Page 18 of Rowdy Hearts

“Yes, I know. That’s why I don’t want to bother?—”

“It’s no bother.” Rowdy shifted against the counter, recrossing his feet, which I now realized were bare. “You like blueberries?”

“Um, yeah?”

His smile made my breath stutter, damn him. That was not good. I needed to watch that. No, I needed to make sure it didn’t happen again. Taking a breath, I shoved all those wayward feelings into a little ball that I then slam-dunked into a wastebasket in my brain. My therapist had taught me that one.

Rowdy’s gaze narrowed as he pushed away from the counter and headed to the refrigerator. As if he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Chocolate chips?” he asked.

Oh, he was good. Tempting me with chocolate and worn jeans and a tight t-shirt.

After he caught you in his arms like the hero of some ridiculous movie.

Did this small-town Romeo have some kind of weird mojo? Or was I simply so messed up in the head that any tiny bit of attention from a man made me crazy?

“Blueberries are fine.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never had my blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes. Trust me, they’ll change your life.”

Something warm began to unfurl in my stomach, something I hadn’t felt in years.

Nope, not happening. Not now. Not here. Not this guy.

At twenty-seven, you’d think I’d be better able to control this shit. And it was shit. Because there was no way in hell I could even think about falling for this guy.

My practiced smile came easier this time. “Well, then I guess I have to, don’t I?”

The smile he gave me was a shot across the bow. He knew. Somehow, he knew that I was walling him off, shutting him down.

Smarter than the average bear.

But it didn’t matter, did it? Because Krista and I were leaving as soon as we could. Well, as soon as my car was ready. Damn it.

Raffi and Krista watched me from the other side of the island, my daughter’s eyes wide and interested, Raffi’s expression carefully neutral.

“Tomorrow morning, we’ll have a proper spread.”

My brain stuttered.Tomorrow.We wouldn’t be here tomorrow.

Won’t we?

“What’s a proper spread?” Krista asked.

“Well, I don’t know where you’re from, but around here, a proper spread includes all the food groups.” Rowdy held up one hand and started to count off fingers. “Meat. Cheese. Carbs. Sugar.” He shrugged. “Maybe some fruit. Definitely no vegetables.”

This man thought he was irresistible. And maybe he was, but I wasn’t going to give him any more ammunition.

“Mommy likes vegetables.” Krista chimed in. “She eats them all the time.”

“Then she’s missing out on the finer things in life.”

He winked at Krista, whose smile widened. So did his. Rowdy honestly seemed enchanted with my daughter and not just playing up to Krista to get on her mom’s good side. He was either a damn good actor or a decent guy. And I hadn’t met many of the latter.

“Krista, honey, I have a few errands to run.” Raffi filled the short silence that fell. “Would you like to come with me? If it’s okay with your mom, of course.”

Krista turned to me, her eyes wide. “Can I? Miss Raffi said we could see the hockey rink where Rowdy plays.”

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