Page 92 of The Runaway Bride of Blossom Branch

“We may be together two days or two weeks or two months. The time doesn’t matter. I need my own place, Harry. I’m doing you the courtesy of giving you notice. So you won’t be taken by surprise when I leave.”

He was quiet for long seconds. Then he rolled to his feet and stretched. His shirt rode up, exposing a narrow slice of flat abdomen. She couldn’t tell if she had made him angry or not.

Finally, he gave her a wry look. “I can’t stop you moving out. But it seems dumb to waste your money. Not to mention the fact that the real estate market is tight right now. You do what you have to do, Cate. Just know that you are welcome to stay.”

“And if we stop having sex? If there’s a huge blowup? A terrible argument? Or we simply scratch the itch and decide it’s over?”

“Why do women overthink everything?” he asked, his tone exasperated.

“Maybe because stupid men jack up our lives, and we always have to be prepared.”

Harry’s open mood shut down abruptly. “I get it,” he said. “Men are pigs.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you think.” He paused. “Is this the kind of argument you had in mind?”

“Something like that.” She had to smile, despite her heartache. “It’s no big deal, Harry. Time moves on. People change. I want to be ready. I’ve had enough uncomfortable surprises this year.”

“And the sex?”

She stood and curled her arms around his neck. “I’m not giving that up anytime soon.”

The rigid set to his jaw relaxed. “Thank God. I’d hate to have to tie you to my bed.”

“You wouldn’t,” she said.

He kissed her nose. “Maybe for fun.”

She told herself not to blush. “Fun for whom?”

Harry cupped her face in his hands and traced her cheekbones with his thumbs. “You have the most beautiful skin. But it’s turning pink, so we’d better get you out of the sun.”

She chose to let him think it was the sun turning her face hot and not an image of Harry holding her captive for his manly pleasures. All he had to do wastalkabout naughty sex, and Cate melted.

Tonight, once the sun went down, things would happen. Fun things. Sensual, arousing, exciting things.

Cate couldn’t wait...

Twenty-Three

Cate and Harry danced around each other like sparring partners. Too close, and someone could steal a kiss. Too far away, and the sizzling need pulled them back together.

For Cate, the late afternoon and early evening crawled by. After visiting the school, she and Harry went to the grocery store before they went home. He spent an inordinate amount of time picking out two perfect T-bones. Cate gathered salad ingredients and selected potatoes to bake. Harry hefted a bag of charcoal and grabbed some lighter fluid.

By the time they checked out, paid and drove home, the sun was sinking lower in the sky. While Harry fired up the grill, Cate microwaved the potatoes for a few minutes and then put them in the oven to finish baking. Then she made the salad and set the table.

At the sink, she had a clear view of the chef. Watching him work gave her an odd feeling. If all they wanted from each other was sex, why were they playing house?

If she were smart, she would run away and not look back.

She and Leah had texted a lot in the last couple of weeks. Though they hadn’t been able to get another lunch date on the calendar, they’d talked on the phone a few times. But since Cate was withholding information, there wasn’t a lot she could say other than to assure Leah that she was doing fine.

Leah and Gabby were her best friends in the entire world. She should be able to tell them the truth about Harry. But every time she thought about spitting it out, she panicked.

How could she tell them she was sleeping with Jason’s cousin?

Friends were supposed to accept you, warts and all, but what if they judged her without meaning to? What if she saw confusion and disapproval on their faces? That would be dreadful. She knew they were worried about her. Honestly, Cate was worried about herself. She wasn’t ready for somebody else to tell her that a relationship with Harry was a bad idea.

---