Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)(31)

He walked toward her, skirting around the truck. The driver backed up, turned and left. The now-empty trailer bounced over a bump in the driveway and a few loose pieces of hay drifted to the asphalt.

“Morning,” Shane said as he approached.

“You’re busy,” she said with a sigh. “I should have called.”

“Just a hay delivery. It’s collected and signed for.”

“Hay?”

“Winter’s coming.”

“It’s the middle of summer.”

“In six months there’ll be snow on the ground. There are a lot of animals to feed. We get a price break if we take the hay as soon as it’s baled. That way we’re paying the storage costs rather than the company. They like that.”

She wore a dress, one of the flirty, fitted ones that hugged curves and promised sin. To someone else, he reminded himself. Because wanting was one thing, but taking was something else. At least, that’s what he told himself when he was in control of his hormones.

“I’ve made a decision,” Annabelle told him. Her green eyes glittered with determination.

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“You don’t know what my decision is.”

“That doesn’t have any bearing on how I’m going to feel about it.”

She grinned. “Ah, a wise man who’s spent a fair amount of time around women.”

He drew in a breath. “I’m braced. Go for it.”

She nodded and stared directly at him. “I’ve decided we should be friends.”

He waited for the second part of her statement, but there didn’t seem to be one. “Aren’t we friends now?”

“I’d like us to be, but you don’t trust me. Because I remind you of Rachel.”

He held in a groan. “It’s not that simple.”

“It should be. I’m not a bad person and I’m nothing like your ex-wife.”

“How do you know? You’ve never met her.” He held up both hands. “You know what I mean.”

“I know you’re a good guy and she let you go. My first husband was a jerk. It took me a while to figure that out. If he’d been a good guy, I’d still be with him.”

He didn’t like thinking about her married to someone else, so he stopped.

Annabelle shrugged. “We can’t really be friends until you trust me and right now you have no reason to. Yes, your horse is in love with me, but I don’t think you see him as much of a character reference. So this morning I’m going to show you my world. And I hope that when you see it, you’ll understand me a little better, maybe start to trust me and then we can be friends.”

She almost made sense, which made him more than a little nervous. What he couldn’t tell her was he didn’t want to like her. Not more than he already did. That not trusting her allowed him to be distant. Okay, he would admit it. Safe. Because Annabelle was trouble and danger and everything bad in one petite, sexy package.

He told himself to say no. That he’d already done enough by agreeing to help her learn to ride. He’d been neighborly, even accommodating. Now he could politely tell her to go away.

“I’m busy,” he began.

Her green gaze settled on his face and he could feel her disappointment all the way across the yard. Then her chin came up and she marched determinedly around her car. Once there she held open the passenger door.

“I don’t think so.”

He knew he could force the issue. Be blunt. But in getting his way, he would have to watch the bright light go out of her eyes. He would see her slim shoulders slump and know he was the cause. Damn it all to hell, he didn’t think he could stand that.

Yet another testament to how bad he had it for her. Women, he thought with a sigh. What had God been thinking?

He walked around the rear of her car and slid into the passenger seat. She grinned and closed the door, then got behind the wheel.

“You won’t regret this,” she promised. “I’m a very safe driver.”

It wasn’t her driving that had him worried, he thought as she started the engine. It was the proximity. The sweet scent of her surrounded him, teasing and delighting. The car was small, the space confined. He could see too much. The slight dip in the top of her dress when she sat that exposed the swell of her br**sts every time she drew in a breath.

Trying to find something safer to focus on, he dropped his gaze only to find the skirt had ridden up some, exposing half her thigh. Not the good half, but still. It was enough to make him wonder if she had the heat cranked on or what.

“Technically I’m not working today,” she said as she headed out of the ranch and onto the main road. “Summer hours and all that. So I use the extra time to visit some of our shut-ins. Obviously when we get the bookmobile we’ll have regular hours. Right now I call ahead and make sure my visits are convenient.”

He rolled down the window, wishing he could stick his head out like a dog. At least that would be a distraction. “What happens in winter?”

“It depends on how bad the snow is and when I can get away. We’re open longer hours, but usually someone will cover for me so I can get out to see those who can’t come to us.”

If he hadn’t bought Khatar he could have simply given her the money for her bookmobile and been done with it, he thought grimly. Maybe he could talk to Rafe about borrowing a hundred grand for a few months. Anything to avoid the torture of being trapped in a car with her.