Page 63 of Renard's Deliverance

“That you’re vulnerable under that prickly exterior.”

“I mean . . . yeah.” She gulped. “You understand me well for someone who’s only been my friend a week.”

Renard grunted. “Sometimes I think I can see bits of myself in you. Although I’m not vulnerable on the inside. Prickly all the way through.”

Uh-huh.

She definitely didn’t believe that. But she wasn’t going to sit here and argue that he had a marshmallow inside.

At least he did for some people.

“Guess I like the idea of someone who isn’t afraid to take me in hand when I need it, who won’t let me roll right over them, but won’t take things too far. Won’t be too cold or too Dominant. Who knows how to be . . . nurturing? Maybe? I don’t know.”

He was silent for a long moment. “It’s not my strongest point.”

“What isn’t?” she whispered.

“Being nurturing.”

“I don’t know. I think you’ve got it in you.” She’d meant to tease him, but instead it came off with a hint of longing. She cleared her throat. “I mean, you can be nurturing with people, look at you with the baby.”

“She’s a baby,” he said. “This is different. Don’t know if I know how to be nurturing, but I could try.”

“You could . . . try? Why would you try?”

And why was her heart racing? Why was her stomach bubbling with nausea and nerves?

He cleared his throat. “Could try for you, Gem.”

“As a friend?” she queried.

“Hmm. I was thinking of something else.”

“As a . . . as a scene partner?”

“Nope. Try again. And clue in, Gem. I’m getting older by the second, yeah? Don’t have time for pissing around. Didn’t want a woman in my life. I’ve got plans that don’t include having two rockers on the front porch.”

Ouch.

Shit.

That was a sucker punch she hadn’t been expecting.

“So you want to get involved with me for the short term?”

What were those plans? And why couldn’t there be another rocker? She could buy it if she needed to.

“Maybe, I guess. Not sure exactly what I’m thinking if I’m honest. I know I likely sound like an asshole right now and if you want me to drop you off and leave, then I get that.”

“I like honesty.”

Although his brand of honesty might make her cry. Which, apparently, he hated. Unless he caused the pain that made someone cry.

He pulled up outside her house again.

“Good. Right. Here’s the thing. I wanna be more than friends, but I don’t want to go into this with you thinking it’s a fairy tale, live happily-ever-after thing. Because I don’t know that I have that in me.”

“So this is . . . sex? And play?” She was so confused.

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