Page 10 of Lone Star

They’d made it to the kitchen, and even poured the wine, trading glances; his openly admiring, hers assessing, trying to figure out what kind of “brother shit” he meant without asking.

Finally, she’d taken the water off the burner – it wasn’t boiling yet anywhere – switched off the oven, and they’d gone clumsily upstairs, already tangling together.

The sex had been good: heated, and fractious, and hurried, and a welcome distraction.

But, now, as the glow of orgasm faded, and he nursed his cigarette, he found himself frowning at the ceiling. All their sex seemed to feel like this: a frantic crashing together, over too soon…and, a flaw he’d never thought to find bothersome in his own sex life before, unemotional.

Had he…ever taken his time over it? With anyone? For any reason?

No. Sex was an urge, same as any other.

So why did he feel so hollow about it now?

“Axelle texted,” Eden said. “Albie just left.”

Fox turned his head so he could check the clock. “Left? It’s not even eight yet.”

“It was only their first date.”

“So?”

“So not everyone’s as unsentimental and basic as you, Charlie,” she scolded without any heat.

Did hewantthere to be heat? For her to be disappointed?

“Did he at least kiss her goodnight?” He rolled his head toward her, so he could see her profile thrown into glaring blue relief by her phone screen. “Tell me he kissed her.”

“Hold on.” The touchscreen clicked as her thumbs tapped out the message. A moment later, there was a ding of an incoming text, and Eden’s face went carefully blank. “He didn’t.”

Fox sat up, nearly dumping ash all over himself. “Oh, bugger him,” he muttered, crushing out the last of his cig and setting the tray aside on the nightstand. “Is he bloody stupid? You have to have the kiss goodnight. Got to leave ‘em wanting more, you know? Otherwise she’ll set her sights on someone with the balls and the brains to actually court her properly.”

She glanced toward him, face still blank – dangerously blank. That uncanny look that gave the impression of staring at a wall, left stewing in your own words, examining everything you’d said, while the face of the person opposite gave no indication whether or not you’d just stepped in it royally.

It was a look he gave to others, often.

“Keep them wanting more,” she said flatly. “Do you honestly believe women are that simple-minded?”

He opened his mouth – and shut it. Opened it, and shut it. “No,” he finally said, just as flat. “Of course not.”

“Hmm. Lucky for you, saying that.” She turned back to her phone. “Axelle’s a pretty girl,” she continued. “She’s tough, and she’s not shy, and she loves cars, and beer, and all the things blokes like. She could have a blowhard idiot American man who believes inkeeping them wanting moreif she wanted one. She likes Albie. I don’t think a first date kiss is going to make or break anything.”

“Would have for you,” he retorted, quietly, just to be contrary.

The look she tossed him then was curious, brows arched. “You think awfully highly of your kisses.”

On paper, it was a playful conversation; the good-natured ribbing of familiar lovers who’d moved past the honeymoon phase and settled into something comfortable.

Only, there was something prickly about it, and it didn’t leave him flushed with fondness, but, rather, wary. And wondering.

Eden sighed, set her phone down, and sat up, shaking out her finger-tangled hair with both hands. She stretched, spine popping audibly, and though his eyes followed the movements of her lithe, naked body, the sight didn’t stir him. Not now, so freshly satisfied.

A small voice in the back of his head informed him that something was wrong with his life – or maybe with him. But he ignored it.

“How about that pasta now?” she asked, throwing a smile over her shoulder as she got to her feet and reached for the robe hanging off her bedpost.

“Sounds good.”

But this here – whatever it was between them – was one of the reasons he saidyeswithout even thinking when Michelle called a few days later.

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