by Katee Robert
“I know.” She grinned. “God, I’m so good at this, you should be paying me.”
He chose to let the serious subject slide away and returned her grin. “That’s a fantastic idea. I know just the currency to use.”
“Oh yeah?” She gave him a flirty smile.
“Yeah.” He leaned forward and took her hand, that small touch further easing the burden he’d felt like he’d been carrying around since his conversation with his dad. Ian traced a circle on her wrist, watching her eyes go hazy. It was only then that he said, “How do you feel about ice cream?”
17
After realizing how much pressure they must have been putting on him, Roxanne wanted to drive out to Ian’s parents’ house and slap some sense into them, which was not a rational response. No, it was yet another brick in that damning wall of evidence of her feelings for the man.
She was tipping over the edge of just liking Ian into something far more devastating, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Her past lay there behind her, barren and lonely, broken only by surface interactions here and there, all because she was so terrified of falling in love. Ian had been back in town under two weeks, and she was already neck-deep and sinking fast. She cared. She wanted him to be happy, wanted to wipe those shadows from his eyes. Hell, she just plain wanted.
She sighed. “Ice cream?”
“You know, the stuff that’s cold and sweet and melts on your tongue? Don’t tell me you’re one of those wacky people who don’t like ice cream.”
In all reality, she loved ice cream—and had a stash of four different kinds in her freezer right now—but Roxanne couldn’t help playing devil’s advocate. “Just because you like ice cream doesn’t mean everyone should.”
Ian shot her a horrified look. “It’s un-American to hate ice cream.”
“Ice cream isn’t American. It came across the Atlantic, just like everything else fantastic.”
“I can list half a dozen awesome things that originated here.” He shook his head, but a smile crept across his lips. “Back to the point, how do you really feel about ice cream?”
Was he going to suggest she dump it on her naked body and have him lick it off? Because she could get into that idea. Hell, she could get into any idea that involved being naked with Ian’s mouth on her. Yum.
From the look on his face, he knew exactly which turn her thoughts had taken. “Well?”
What was the question? Oh, right. Ice cream. She smiled. “I happen to have a deep and abiding love for ice cream.”
“Thank God. I was about to call the whole thing off. Some things I refuse to compromise on.”
The fact that they were sitting here, mock-arguing
about their relationship, and she was only feeling the slightest flutter of panic amazed her. “Guess I just dodged a bullet then, huh?”
“Most definitely.” He put a stack of bills in the tab book and set it on the table. “You ready to go?”
“If there’s ice cream involved, then yes.” She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. God, touching him felt good, even if it was innocent contact.
“I hoped you’d say that.”
Roxanne found herself holding her breath as they walked through the parking garage to his truck. It was hard to look at the shiny red hood without seeing the image he’d described earlier—her bent over it with her dress up around her hips while he made her scream his name. She wanted that. She wanted that a lot. But she also wanted the rest of it, too—the conversations and joking and innocent touches.
Which should’ve terrified her. And yet…it didn’t.
Better not to spend too much time thinking on that. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
He laughed as he opened the door and then stepped into the gap when she slid into the seat. “Patience, grasshopper. I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”
“I know.”And she did. She leaned over and kissed him, liking the fact that his jacked-up truck put them at exactly the same height. She pulled back before they could get carried away—there was a bowl of ice cream with her name on it waiting for her, after all. “You should know by now that I have an intense weakness for good food.”
“I’ve noticed.” He ran his hands up her thighs, stopping just short of the hem of her dress. “It’s one of the many things I like about you.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”As would food. And charm. And… Yeah, best not to go too far down that rabbit hole or she’d start worrying that she was easy. Hell, even if she was, who cared? It wasn’t like she’d left a trail of broken lovers behind her. It was more the other way around.
By the time she reeled her thoughts back in, Ian was in the truck, and they were on their way to get ice cream. He stretched his arm over the back of the seat and around her shoulders. “Thank you for giving this a go.”
Roxanne attempted a smile. “You’re feeding me and throwing in some hot sex to sweeten the pot. I never stood a chance.” The words didn’t come out as light and funny as she’d meant, probably because they weren’t the full truth. Ian brought so much more to the table, more than she could have ever dreamed.
But then he ran his fingers through her hair and her heart did a funny little jump that scared the shit out of her. Roxanne had never felt so fragile in her entire life. Not now that he had her cuddled up against him as if she actually mattered—which was exactly what he kept claiming.
She was starting to actually believe him.
After they got ice cream, he drove north to a small park tucked down next to the Little Spokane River. She had been there a few times when she was a kid, but everything seemed different in the dark. The trees towered over the river and sprawling lawn, creating an atmosphere she might have found terrifying if Ian hadn’t been by her side.
She let him lead her down the path and over the bridge to where the picnic tables were situated. Feeling off-center by the romantic turn the night had taken, she resorted to humor. “You aren’t planning on bashing me over the head and throwing my body into the river, are you?”
He snorted. “And waste perfectly good ice cream? I don’t think so.”
They sat on the table closest to the water. As she ate her double chocolate brownie Blizzard, she let the sound of the river running over the rocks push everything else away. In this moment, there was only this night and the man beside her. If there’d ever been anything more perfect, she hadn’t experienced it.“This is nice.”
“It really is.” He squeezed her knee. “This could be our place.”
Our place. After taking a deep breath, she dredged up a shaky smile. “Sure.”
Ian laughed and kissed her temple. “Sorry. No pressure.”
Her next breath came a little bit easier. “Right. No pressure.” She finished the last of her ice cream in silence. Maybe it was time to stop overthinking everything. Just because her mother had been right one hundred percent of the time up to this point didn’t mean she was right this time. Ian made her feel safe and needed, something she’d never experienced before. How could that ever be a bad thing?
“Are you ready?”
Ready? She realized she’d been staring into the shadows of her empty cup for God knew how long. If that wasn’t a declaration of being well-adjusted, she didn’t know what was. She tossed her garbage into the can next to the end of the table. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
He held her hand as they drove to her place. A slow country song that wasn’t her cup of tea twanged over the radio but, strangely enough, it seemed to fit the moment.
After they pulled into her driveway, he shut off the truck, and they sat there, listening to the engine tick as it cooled off. Apparently, he was waiting for some sort of signal from her. He was nothing if not considerate. If she gave him a kiss on the cheek and left him at her front door, he’d be as okay with that as he’d be if she invited him in. What a novel concept.
While part of her wanted to throw caution to the wind and get naked with him again, after the conversation th
ey’d had at dinner and the growing connection at the park, it felt wrong to sully it with her avoidance issues.
But she didn’t want him to leave.
Roxanne raised her head and took a deep breath, trying to steel herself enough to ask, “Will you stay tonight?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.” She bit her lip, not quite able to look him in the eyes. This felt different than before, far more intimate. It was one thing to throw caution to the wind and sleep with him. It was something else altogether to seek out this.“I… Would you just hold me tonight?”
He smiled. “I’m good with that.”
“Okay.” God, this shouldn’t be such a big deal. But it was a big deal. It felt like a step in the right direction, which was more than she’d ever allowed herself before. Ian got out of the truck and walked around to open her door. The ride up the elevator to her floor was silent, though he didn’t once let go of her hand. She unlocked her door and led the way inside, wondering what he would think of her loft. Though she’d moved here six months ago, she didn’t make a habit of entertaining—Elle’s house was way better suited to that kind of stuff—so the living area only held a couch and a love seat, with lamps situated for reading. Her bed was partially hidden behind a privacy screen with cherry blossoms painted on it. She’d specifically mounted the television on a portion of the wall that could be seen by both the bed and the couch, which opened up the question… Where should they sit?
She was overthinking again. Roxanne kicked off her shoes and glanced at him. “Do you want a drink or something?”
“Nah, I’m good.” Ian ran a hand over her tiny dining room table. It was a custom piece, made out of wrought iron with comfy cushions on the seats. She’d had it shipped in from Portland last year after she’d stumbled across the shop during one of her research trips for a bride. “I like the chairs.”
“Thank you.”
He moved around the room, pausing when he reached her dresser. It was a huge piece of furniture, its wood darkened with age. “This is missing a knob.”
She moved to stand next to him. “It has been ever since I picked up it from the antique shop.”
“I like it.” He ran his hand over the drawer. “It’s quirky.”
“I keep meaning to buy a replacement, but I just haven’t found the right piece yet.”The words resonated inside her, extending beyond the subject of the dresser.
Ian gave her a long look that made it clear he’d caught the double meaning, too.
God, this wasn’t awkward at all. “I’m going to change.” She grabbed a pair of yoga pants and tank top from one of the drawers not missing its knob and headed into the bathroom—no reason to taunt him with changing in the same room. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
When she came back, she found Ian lounging on her bed, shirtless. He’d turned on the television and had his arms propped behind his head. He couldn’t have looked more seductive if he’d tried, though if his intent study of whatever show he’d turned on was any indication, he had no idea he’d affected her so strongly. He’d also taken away her options. Roxanne sidled closer to the bed, all too aware of how ridiculous she was being. This was Ian, the same man she’d had sex with more than a few times. He’d seen her naked and out of her mind with pleasure. It wasn’t like he’d judge her for what she was wearing now.
“You going to sit down or stand there and stare at me a while longer?” He spoke without looking away from the television.
“No, no. I’m going to sit down.” Because she hadn’t just been standing there, staring like some sort of creeper. She climbed onto the bed and crawled over to him, wishing all the while that she’d worn a bra. But they were supposed to be curling up and sleeping, and she never wore a bra to bed, so she hadn’t thought twice about taking it off when she changed.
“Come here.” Ian pulled her closer and tucked her against his chest. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head. “There. This is nice, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She smiled against his chest. Look what she could accomplish if she got out of her own way. Though they had most of their clothes in place and were only cuddling while watching television—pretty much the most mundane activity she could think of—she was enjoying herself. All without doing anything to sabotage it. She snuggled closer to Ian, inhaling the fresh scent of him. It quieted her inner voices like little else could. It wasn’t an excuse for passing out sprawled over his chest, but Roxanne couldn’t exactly help herself.
She was head over heels for this man.
18
Ian liked waking up next to Roxanne. He liked it a lot, and not just because it meant another eight hours of nightmare-free sleep. When he moved to keep his arm from falling asleep, she made a small noise and opened her eyes. Would he ever get used to their vibrant green color? He sure as hell hoped not. “Hey there.”
Roxanne gave a small smile. “Hi.” Then she glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Crap. I have to get moving.”
“Me, too.” Ian brushed back her hair. “What are you doing tomorrow?” Since it’d be Friday, he was reasonably sure she’d be free.
“I think I could free up my schedule for you.”
“I appreciate you making the effort.”And now for the clincher. He cleared his throat, cursing himself for saving this for the morning when he’d much rather be wrapped up in her warm, soft body. “My family has browbeaten me into going out to eat with them. I’d like you to come with.”
She made a face, but he didn’t miss the flicker of fear in her eyes. “That sounds serious.”
In a way, it was. His mother hadn’t exactly left any wiggle room when she’d extended the invitation to the woman he was seeing, but he wanted Roxanne at that dinner for a number of reasons. “My mo. is insisting on having dinner at this huge restaurant. I’d really like you to be there.” He didn’t know how he’d get through it without her around to anchor him, but damn it if he couldn’t bring himself to say the words aloud.
She knew, of course. Even though it obviously scared the crap out of her, she squeezed his arm. “If you want me there, I’ll be there.”
Relief coursed through him, and he kissed her. “I want you. There and otherwise.”
“You’re such a charmer.” Roxanne stretched. “I really need to shower, and as great as it’d be to share my water supply, I think that would expand the shower time exponentially.”
Since just hearing the word “shower” slammed Ian with images of her naked, water dripping along all the right places, he couldn’t disagree. “You’re probably right.”
She started to sit up and stopped to lay her hand against his cheek.“Thank you. For getting it, for staying last night, for everything.”
“Always.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss against her palm. “Now go get ready. I’ll show myself out and text you in a little bit.”
“Text, huh? Are you finally going to introduce me to this mysterious her you mentioned? Because I’m beside myself with anticipation.”
“Smart-ass.”
“You know it.” She slid off the bed and paused to give him a sultry look before she disappeared into the bathroom.
“Tease.”
“That, too.” Roxanne shut the door. He thought about saying to hell with it and joining her anyway, but he was supposed to be supportive, and that meant not making her late for work.
Being supportive sucked.
With a groan, he climbed out of bed and grabbed his shirt. Though he’d wanted nothing more than to strip her naked and do wonderful, filthy things to her last night, Ian had managed to keep his control. As a result, he was in a state of what could only be called “seriously uncomfortable” at the moment.
Yeah, being supportive definitely sucked.
It was worth it, though. The only way this thing with Roxanne would work was if she trusted him and if their relationship moved beyond sex. Last night had been a pretty good start, though he’d be an idiot if he thought the battle was won.
He most definitely could get used to this.
By the time five o’clock on Friday rolled around, Roxanne wasn’t sure she could survive going through with dinner.
It wasn’t so bad during the day with work to keep her occupied. Teenagers did a number on her stress level. If she needed more motivation to keep up on her birth control, she’d gotten it today with that little diva. Strippers at a sweet-sixteen party? Roxanne had always thought herself pretty outrageous, but that passed even her limits. It had been everything she could do not to call up the girl’s parents and cancel the whole damn thing. If their daughter thought mostly naked men were legitimate entertainment for her age group, then her parents had dropped the ball somewhere along the line.
Apparently, having a stable home life with parents who were still married still wasn’t enough to keep from screwing up your kids.
Against her better judgment, her mind presented her with a mental image of two children. The boy had a riot of dark curls nearly as dark as his eyes, while the girl had beautiful blond hair and green eyes.
She slammed her mental shutters closed and dug her keys out of her purse. No matter what she’d decided about Ian, she had no business daydreaming about sharing children with him.They were already balanced on a precarious enough ledge without throwing that kind of complication into the mix.
As soon as she walked through her front door, her doubts tried to take hold again. A family dinner? That was a serious step, even if she was falling for Ian. His little sister might be her best friend, but she was pretty sure his mom hated her guts. No matter what she did, she would never be good enough for Elizabeth Walser’s golden boy.
