Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)(40)

He kissed the top of her head. “You’re a surprise.”

“Mmm” was the only response she could think of. At the same time, she was hoping he couldn’t feel her blushing.

“I’m trying to think of the right word,” he told her. “Amazing doesn’t cut it. Spectacular. I think that works.”

She risked glancing up at him and saw the contented expression of a very satisfied man.

“Don’t get a big head about this,” she told him.

He winked. “It wasn’t my head you liked.”

She groaned. “If I had the strength, I would so punch you.”

“I’d let you and even pretend it hurt.”

“Quite the gentleman.”

He smiled at her then and she felt everything shift back to where it was supposed to be. This was Shane, she reminded herself. One of the good guys. He wasn’t Lewis. He wasn’t interested in making her feel small or broken. He didn’t use sex as an emotional tool to hurt. He didn’t play games. He mostly said what he was thinking.

“Spectacular, huh?” she asked.

“More than. I’ll come up with a better word.”

Happiness bubbled inside of her. She got out of bed and dashed to her closet to pull on her robe. There was wine in the refrigerator and she could dig up a few snacks. They would get their strength back and then try it all again. And to think she’d planned an evening of catching up on her favorite cooking show. Those who could did, those who couldn’t watched it on TV.

“Be right back,” she said and headed for the kitchen.

She got the white wine out of the refrigerator and found some cookies that only needed to bake for twelve minutes. After turning on the oven, she got out cheese and crackers, and debated slicing up a peach. She’d just finished washing the fruit when Shane came out of the bedroom.

Dressed.

“You’re leaving?” she asked, standing there holding a dripping peach.

“I’m going to let you get on with your evening.” He leaned in and kissed her.

“I don’t understand.”

He drew his eyebrows together as he glanced at the food she’d put on the counter. “Were you thinking I would stay?”

She dropped the peach into the sink and wiped her hands on her robe. “No. Of course not.”

Wariness invaded his expression. “Annabelle, this was just sex, right? Getting it out of our system?”

She supposed the mature response was either to agree or calmly point out that no, she hadn’t realized she was a booty call. What she said instead was, “Oh, really? So now that you’ve had me, you’re free to get on with your life?”

He took a step back. “I wouldn’t put it like that,” he said cautiously.

“Sure you would.” She grabbed the peach and flung it at him.

He stepped to the side and it went flying past him to land with a thunk on the carpet in the living room. She reached for the plastic-wrapped cheese.

“You had an itch,” she said, her voice rising, “so you came here to get it scratched.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

She threw the cheese as hard as she could and then followed with a box of crackers. He ducked both.

“You’re upset.”

“Me? Why would you think that? You show up, have sex with me, then run as fast as you can. Because hey, it’s out of your system now, right? What’s not to like? Make sure the door doesn’t hit you in the ass on your way out.”

She glanced around for something else to throw and saw a heavy frying pan on her stove.

“Annabelle, don’t,” he began.

She reached for the pan. “If I were you, I’d be running right about now.”

“We can talk about this. Be rational.”

She had to use both hands to lift the pan. “Do I look rational to you?”

“Annabelle,” he said, backing up as he spoke.

“Get out, Shane,” she yelled. “Get out now.”

He turned and left.

She waited until he was gone to drop the pan back on the stove, then sucked in a breath and told herself she wouldn’t cry. No matter what, he wasn’t worth it. No guy was. Not ever.

CHAPTER NINE

SHANE WOKE UP EARLY. Not much of a stretch, considering he hadn’t slept well the night before. He’d kept thinking about his evening with Annabelle, trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong.

Going over there was a start, he thought as he dressed and headed down to the kitchen. She was a temptation and he’d given in. That didn’t come without a price. And maybe he should have explained things more thoroughly before they got started.

He reached the kitchen. Heidi was already up. She milked her goats early and was usually the first one to make coffee.

“Morning,” he said as he walked into the room and headed for the pot.

She regarded him steadily.

He reached for the handle, but she stepped in front of him.

“I don’t think so.”

He stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t think so,” she repeated. “If you want coffee, or anything to eat, you’ll have to go to town.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a jerk and I don’t make coffee for jerks.”