Bachelor at Her Bidding (Bachelor Auction Book 2)(17)

“We’ll pretend this didn’t happen,” he agreed.

“And we’ll be, um, friends?” She hated the way that “um” was creeping in to her sentences; she wasn’t usually this inarticulate and hesitant.

Then again, she didn’t usually take a complete stranger into her bed and let him make her fall apart in his arms.

“Friends,” he said. “I’d like that. I can always use a friend.” His mouth quirked again. “Even though right now I think we’re not quite in friend mode – we’re both naked, we’re in the same bed, and we have a plate of French macarons between us.”

She remembered the way she’d smeared chocolate across his lower lip and went hot all over. She could think of other places she’d like to smear chocolate and lick it off right at that very moment, and the sudden slash of color across his face made her realize that he was thinking along the same lines.

“We can’t,” she whispered. Even though she wanted to. Because she didn’t think she’d be able to live with herself in the morning. “Friends with benefits” wasn’t an option, not in a small town where people would notice and make comments, however well-meaning. “Ryan, would you mind turning your back while I put some clothes on again?” Which was pretty feeble of her, considering they’d both seen every square inch of each other’s skin and how he’d explored her with his mouth.

But he was the perfect gentleman. “Of course. And I’ll get dressed, too.” He balanced the tray of coffee on her nightstand and scooped his clothes off the floor.

When she was dressed, she turned to face him. He was dressed, too – but he looked rumpled and sexy. Anyone who saw him would know exactly what he’d just been doing. And with whom, given that everyone knew his “date” from the fundraiser was scheduled for today.

“Sorry. I crumpled your chef’s tunic,” she said.

“Nobody’s going to notice. Besides, it’s dark and it’s snowing again.”

“Sharla Dickinson’s sitting with your grandmother, though, and she’ll notice.” Rachel knew how sharp-eyed the high school principal was.

He smiled. “Principal Dickinson’s seen enough in her time to know when not to ask questions.”

Her skin heated with embarrassment. “Or I could press your tunic for you now, before you go home.” It would make him a little less rumpled. Even though it meant he’d be bare-chested and tempting while she was actually pressing his tunic.

“It’s fine, Rachel. Stop worrying,” he said softly. “Let’s take the coffee through to the kitchen.”

“Good idea.” Because her tangled sheets made her remember what he’d done to her, the way he’d made her feel, and she wasn’t sure she could resist the temptation to do it all over again – even though they’d just agreed to be friends and no more than that. Saying it hadn’t quite damped down the attraction enough.

Back in her kitchen, he insisted on doing the washing up. “Apart from the fact that I’d never take my equipment home dirty, it’s your birthday and the rule is that you don’t do the washing up on your birthday. Sit down.”

“Yes, Chef,” she said meekly.

He gave her a look that told her he was thinking about her bedroom again, too. But then he turned away and produced a box of chocolates from one of the two big plastic boxes.

“These were originally meant to go with coffee,” he said.

Except they’d gone to bed instead. And the words, unsaid, sat awkwardly between them.

“Thank you. Sage’s chocolates are the best in the county,” she said, recognizing the packaging instantly.

“Sage’s dark caramels with sea salt are better than anything in Bozeman,” he said.

“Better than anything in Paris?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

“I’d say they’re on a par,” he said.

“Would you like one?” she asked.

He indicated his wet hands. “I don’t want to put soap bubbles all over them.”

On impulse, she took a chocolate from the box and fed it to him. His lips touched her fingers, making her shiver; and he closed his eyes momentarily. In bliss because of the chocolate? she wondered. Or in embarrassment because of what she’d just done?

He opened his eyes again. “In other circumstances, Rachel, I’d like to get to know you better. I’d really like to see where this thing between us could go. But I can’t offer anyone anything right now,” he said, his voice husky. “And, just to be clear, the problem isn’t you, it’s me.”

“Same here,” she said. “I need time to get over…” She quite couldn’t bring herself to say Nick’s name.

He misunderstood. “You’re still in love with your ex?”

She shook her head. “I stopped loving him when I caught him cheating on me. Though I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pass that particular bit of information on.”

“Of course I won’t. But he cheated on you? Nasty.” He grimaced. “It’s understandable that you need time to get over being hurt.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, as I said, I can always use a friend.”

Time to be adult about this. “Me, too.” She paused. “If you’re free tomorrow night, you could come out with us all to Rocco’s Italian. We’re going for dinner.” Well, duh. It wouldn’t be breakfast in the evening, would it? What a stupid thing to say.