Page 41 of Winter Vows

“You’re vulnerable and innocent,” he began.

“I’m an unwed mother,” she pointed out.

“Hardly innocent.”

“A technicality,” he insisted. “In my book you’re innocent. And you have a daughter, who could be hurt if we don’t play by the rules.”

She regarded him with confusion. “Whose rules are we talking about now? Yours?”

“No, society’s.”

“I had no idea you even knew what those were.”

“Oh, I know. I just prefer to ignore most of them.” He met her gaze. “I can’t with you. You come from a good family. You have permanence and happily ever after written all over you. I’m a ranch hand who doesn’t think much farther ahead than tomorrow. I’m all about living in the moment. We’re not suited.”

To his chagrin, she nodded. “I agree.”

“Then why can’t I keep my hands off you?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “Why can’t I get you out of my head? Usually I steer so far away from women like you, we’re practically not even in the same state.”

“Probably because you know we’d be a disaster, which makes me forbidden. People always want what they can’t have, what’s bad for them. It’s just a totally irrational fascination, one we just have to try harder to nip in the bud.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she said with confidence. “So now that that’s clear, we can just settle down and be friends. Deal?”

“Friends,” Hardy echoed dutifully. He didn’t even need the impact of that last kiss to tell him that they had a snowball’s chance in hell of pulling that off.

Ten

Friendship should have suited Trish just fine. It was what she had asked for, wasn’t it? And Hardy was throwing himself into the role with total dedication. He hadn’t so much as glanced straight into her eyes, much less uttered a teasing remark to her for the past two weeks.

He also went to great lengths to avoid touching her. If he handed her something, he released it practically before she could get a grip on it, just to ensure that their fingers didn’t brush. He was prompt, cheerful and helpful. She couldn’t fault him for that. The store was taking shape a whole lot faster than she’d anticipated. In fact, she suspected he couldn’t finish the job fast enough.

So why was she so disgruntled at the end of every day? Why did she feel as if she’d lost something precious?

Because she was a ninny, that’s why. Friendship was what she’d asked for. Friendship was what she’d gotten. If she wasn’t satisfied, then it was her own fault.

She glanced over at Hardy who’d stripped off his shirt to display a devastatingly muscular back and shoulders that a body builder would have envied. He was bent over a sawhorse, cutting through a piece of lumber for the last set of shelves. Staring at his gleaming flesh, at the bunching of his muscles, her mouth went dry. His tush wasn’t bad, either, she concluded when she shifted her gaze in that direction.

Sweet heaven, what was happening to her? She was turning into some sort of sex-crazed female. Maybe it was all the hormonal ups and downs her body had been through lately. She seized on that explanation like a lifeline. That had to be it. It couldn’t possibly be personal when they had decided, very clearly, very plainly, that friendship was all that was in the cards for the two of them.

“Trish?”

She snapped back to reality and met his gaze. Was she mistaken or was there a wicked, knowing twinkle in his eyes? Had he guessed what she was thinking?

“Yes,” she snapped more tersely than he deserved. She was instantly riddled with guilt, but she bit back the urge to apologize. She’d been doing that too much the past few days, making excuses every time her temper flared, trying to dismiss with nonsense the erratic behavior that could only be explained honestly by admitting to pure sexual frustration. Which of course she had no intention of admitting to, ever.

“You okay?” he asked, studying her intently.

That was another thing that drove her crazy. He was so blasted thoughtful, so unrelentingly considerate. He always seemed to know when she was tired, when she needed a break, when something was on her mind. Just the way a friend would, she thought sourly.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying for a more eventempered tone. “Just distracted.”

“Let’s take a break,” he said at once, regarding her worriedly. “I could use a milkshake. How about you?”

“A milkshake sounds good.” Anything that would get him out of the store for a few minutes so she could gather her wits.

“Come with me. You can visit with Sharon Lynn for a bit. She asks about you every time I go into Dolan’s to get something. She’s complaining that you’re right next door and you never drop by.”

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