Page 69 of Perfect Fling

“Where are you going?” she asked.

This was it. “Moving my stuff into another room.”

Erin reared back as if he’d slapped her. Exactly how he’d felt on hearing her words, knowing that each time he indulged in her sweetness, he was hurting her more and more. Yet he wasn’t doing this for payback. He really was trying to be a decent guy. Sleeping with her when she wanted more? That would be more cruel than pulling back now.

She folded her arms across her chest. “That night at Joe’s, you agreed. Whatever it is, for as long as it lasts. Isn’t that what we said?” Her voice quivered, but she kept it together.

“That was before I realized how much I’m hurting you. I’m in, we sleep together, you hope for more, I pull away... it’s a vicious cycle. You deserve better. At least now we both agree on that.”

She looked down and ran her tongue over her lips, clearly collecting her thoughts before speaking. Finally she raised her head and looked at him head-on. “You know I said that out of frustration. I’m pregnant and hormonal. This whole enforced confinement thing is getting to me, and it hasn’t even started yet. Don’t use my stupid words, said in the heat of the moment, as any kind of agreement. I told you all along, you’re not the man Jed says you are.”

“But I told you all along, I’m not the man for you. As soon as this stalker situation ends and you’re safe, I’m expected back in Manhattan. They’ll brief me and send me back undercover for who knows how long. I can’t call. Text. Check in at all. It’s not any kind of life you’d want.”

“Says you.” Anger shimmered in her eyes, which narrowed.

“Someone has to be rational.”

“And you telling me what I can or can’t handle, or better yet, what I do or don’t want in my life, that’s rational?”

“Yes.”

She blew out a long, clearly pissed-off breath. He waited for the explosion he felt sure was coming. Instead, she turned and, in silence, started for the door.

“Where are you going?”

She swung back around. “I don’t know. But I have thirty-five hundred square feet to find a place far away from you.” With that, she walked out.

And Cole’s headache turned into a full-blown pounding in his temples.

***

Cole didn’t knowhow much more of this he could take. Two days had passed since he moved out of the main bedroom. By dinnertime on Monday, Erin had gotten over her fit of anger, but as the next couple of days passed, Cole realized she’d changed the rules between them drastically.

Whereas she’d been letting him cook for them both when they were at her house, insisting she clean up in exchange, now she was taking care of herself. She beat him to the kitchen for every meal, heating up her mother’s food, adding a premade salad for dinner, also courtesy of her mother, and leaving him to figure out his own breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Of course, he was free to join her, she’d told him, and to eat whatever she was having if he wasn’t in the mood to cook. But she wasn’t doing anythingforhim.

She handled her own laundry but didn’t touch his. Straightened up the main bedroom and bathroom, along with anything she used in the kitchen, but left him to clean up after himself. She was perfectly pleasant and completely aloof, treating him like... she’d treat any bodyguard who’d been hired for the job.

No,he realized. Knowing Erin, she’d be nicer to someone hired to watch over her than she was to him. In fact, he felt sure she’d offer to heat a second slice of lasagna along with her own, or pour a salad into an extra bowl.

He’d thought she wasn’t angry with him anymore, and maybe she wasn’t—but she clearly had an agenda. One he’d yet to figure out. All he knew was that they were in the same house, living even more separate lives than before they’d started sleeping together again.

She was back in independent Erin mode, and as much as he respected it, he hated it at the same time.

He stalked to the sliding glass doors of the kitchen and looked out, only to see her sitting in a lounge chair, a glass of water on the table, along with an e-reader of some sort beside it. She talked on her cell phone, waving an animated hand in the air.

But what struck him hardest was the bathing suit she’d chosen. Alone and away from friends, family, and prying eyes, Erin had chosen a purple bikini. A two-piece number that left nothing to the imagination.

The all-purple top exposed her now even more generous cleavage, while the bottom was the same color, cut high on the thigh, but a white band cut across her belly, and she’d rolled it down lower than necessary, enabling her to tan. He took in her generous curves and her softly rounded stomach and ground his teeth so hard, he wondered if he’d crack a molar.

Torturing himself wasn’t his style, and he’d just turned away when the doorbell rang.

Grateful for any reprieve, he went downstairs to answer it, surprised to see Mike and Cara waiting on the front porch.

He let the couple inside. “What’s up?” Cole asked, hoping like hell he wasn’t in for any kind of brotherly lecture.

“Cara wanted to see how Erin was doing, and I figured I’d tag along.”

“Erin’s out back. I’m sure she’ll be happy to have company.” Since she wasn’t including him in her daily interactions and plans.

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