"So let's do it. Do you mind swinging by my mom's so I can change before we head to Casa Conrad? What I wore over here is crumpled from being on your floor all night."

"Are you trying to be distracting?" he demanded.

"That depends. Is it working?"

"Only always. I woke up last night wanting you, and I still do. Since you came back, I've been hard so much that I'm thinking about seeing a doctor."

"No need. It's normal for a guy your age to have certain...urges."

"All the d.a.m.n time?" he grumbled, but there was a playful light in his eyes.

"I'm willing to take you on," I answered. "It'll be exhausting, but I can train up."

"It's too early for you to be this cute." Rob kissed my forehead and went into the kitchen to make breakfast while I headed up to shower.

No clean underwear, so I went without. I considered mentioning this over breakfast in his room, but that would mean that nothing got done on the house. Yet maybe I should give him the choice. As we ate, I said, "So the way I see it, we can be good worker ants today. Or...we can go back to bed since you don't have anywhere to be until tonight."

His fork paused partway to his mouth. "What?"

"It's just a question of priorities," I teased. "Are you a hedonist or a pragmatist?"

"Explain."

I realized I'd used a couple of words he didn't know and not given enough context for him to figure it out. "A hedonist lives for pleasure. A pragmatist puts work first."

"Hmm." His expression didn't reveal the shame I'd noticed before, however. Such a relief; it would kill me if I hurt his feelings all the time.

"So which is it?"

"Would you think it's weird if I want to work on the house?"

I shook my head. "Though I'm wondering why."

Rob chewed his lip for a few seconds before admitting, "I'm enjoying the antic.i.p.ation. Once we have s.e.x, all the questions will be answered, but right now, we can imagine anything. Everything. While waiting is making me nuts, I...like it, too." His gaze captured mine, so darkly, beautifully blue, like a building storm.

We'd definitely have blue-eyed babies.

"Then I'm curious why you let me-"

"Jerk me off? I needed that, Lauren. You have no idea how much. But I want to take my time with the rest."

I'll make it good for you. I'll just put it in a little. Come on, you know you want it. Lines I'd heard from other guys flashed into my head, and my cheeks heated as I imagined using them on Rob. How odd, fighting the impulse to pressure a guy for s.e.x.

"Okay, remodeling it is."

He hesitated, obviously concerned. "Are you disappointed?"

"Of course not. You're not a stud horse. If we f.u.c.k, you should be ready emotionally and want it every bit as much as I do."

"When," Rob said softly. "Not if. But I need to get my head on straight first. I did just break up with Avery, and I was with her for all the wrong reasons. Now there's this s.h.i.t with my family, and I don't want to use you as an escape hatch."

I shivered a little as his knuckles grazed my cheek. "What if I'm okay with being used?"

"You shouldn't be."

Dammit, he was right, and it was so sweet, I couldn't stand it. "Then let's make some progress on the house."

We worked for six hours, then Rob dropped me off at home to get ready for dinner. "I'll be back in an hour. Is that long enough?"

I grinned. "If it's not, you'll have to wait."

"Deal."

My mom came home while I was in the shower. She yelled something up at me but I couldn't catch it, so I shouted back, "Give me ten minutes."

It was more like half an hour, but I eventually came down in my robe, only to find Stuart and a couple of elderly people sitting in our living room. The woman was in a pretty floral dress while the men had on suits, and my mother looked beautiful with a new strand of pearls around her neck. Stuart's eyes widened slightly while the woman blinked and the older man shifted his face away as if he was distressed by my dishevelment. Glancing down, I saw my robe had gaped open and I hauled it shut quickly, my hands shaking. They didn't speak for several beats, leaving me with a sick hole opening in my stomach. "Uh, hi."

My mom wore the frozen look of a woman bound for purgatory. "Lauren, these are Stuart's parents. We're all going out to dinner at the Grove."

Humiliation nearly choked me, but fortunately, social, Party Lauren surged to the fore. There was nothing for it but to play the scene without proper costuming. "So nice to meet you. I hope you have a wonderful time. The food is fantastic there. But if you'll excuse me, I have to finish getting ready now. I'm so sorry for coming down like this. I didn't realize we had company." I flashed the smile I'd been told was pert and charming and then retreated.

For a full five minutes, I sat in a ball in front of my closed door, as my stomach roiled. I didn't budge until I heard them leave. I fought the urge to bang my head on the wall, but no time for that-Rob would be here in twenty minutes, and I was spending the evening with his parents, a task that seemed f.u.c.king impossible. I tried, G.o.d, I tried to pull myself together before he got there, but I was still in my robe and on the verge of tears when the bell rang.

I tiptoed downstairs, knees shaking. If they haven't left yet...But there was n.o.body around, freeing me to let Rob in. When I opened the door, he asked, "Are you okay?"

His gaze was fixed on my face, so it couldn't be the robe giving him the impression I was a mess. In a breathless rush, I told him about making an a.s.s out of myself in front of Stuart's parents. This was the kind of thing normal people wrote off. They shrugged and went on, but if I let it, it would become another brick of anxiety in the wall that made me terrified of going places, talking to people. Each humiliating moment stuck to me like glue, a lifetime of f.u.c.kups that was driving me crazy, until I became someone else. But I couldn't stand that life, either.

By the time I finished, I was just about crying. Rob didn't try to shush me. He didn't tell me to calm down, either. He just picked me up and carried me to the couch, then settled me against his chest and stroked my back in long, slow sweeps. His touch calmed me faster than anything besides meds ever had. Normally I'd just go to bed and stay there for a day or two. He also didn't mock how much I was overreacting to a small embarra.s.sment, but the thing was, it wasn't like I didn't know that intellectually-some things just felt so horrible, I couldn't do anything else.

"Is there any way I can make it better?" he asked eventually.

I exhaled. "You already are."

"You don't have to go tonight, it's okay. I don't-"

"No, I want to. Unless you can't give me fifteen minutes?" Pushing to my feet, I aimed a questioning look his way, a little worried that he didn't want me around, now that he'd seen my Achilles' heel. I mean, I'd talked about it, but just hearing secondhand wasn't the same as walking into a meltdown.

"I'd give you fifteen years," he said quietly.

Please stop saying things like that. You're making it so hard for teen-me. She already thought you were perfect, and it's really hard to disagree.

"Okay, then. I'll be right down."

I rushed in getting ready, doing the minimum hair and makeup and pulling on the first decent outfit I found: jeans, red sweater, puffy jacket. By the time I added a pair of fur-lined boots, my time was almost up, and I ran down the stairs to find Rob watching TV calmly. He didn't seem to have stirred, but my agitated subconscious had been sure he'd dodge out as soon as he had the chance. That's what men do, they leave.

But maybe not all of them. Not Rob.

When he noticed me, he pushed to his feet. "You look beautiful. Ready?"

"Are your parents expecting me?" The worst of the shaking had stopped, and though I normally wouldn't go out after freaking, it was good to push through it when possible.

"Yeah, I called to tell my mom and to let her know I'd be a little late."

He helped me into my jacket and escorted me to the truck, but as far as I could tell, his manner hadn't changed much; Rob wasn't more protective or less, failing to make eye contact or staring at me too much. That was kind of...amazing.

"You don't think I'm an idiot?" I managed to ask, once we pulled out of the driveway.

"You're human. Would you make fun of me if you found out I was scared of spiders?"

"Are you?" I wondered aloud.

"Kind of. When I was a kid, I woke up with one crawling on my face, and I screamed the house down. My dad's never let me forget it to this day."

"Well, I'm not afraid, so if we run into any, I'll handle them for you. I'm not a killer, though, so I'll just put them outside."

"Where they'll freeze to death," he joked.

"Probably. But I just don't have it in me to crush things."

"That's part of what I..." He trailed off, suddenly absorbed in navigation, though he could likely find his parents' house in his sleep.

"What?"

"Like about you." But he didn't look at me as he said it, and I had the feeling that was a subst.i.tution. But Rob didn't love me. He couldn't.

It's too soon.

Though that was the wrong word also, since we'd known each other so long. Whatever this was had been years in the making. Deliberately I turned up the radio, giving him s.p.a.ce. He relaxed visibly, and things were normal between us when we pulled up at Casa Conrad. His mom was already in the door, waving, like it had been months since she'd seen him. She was sweet and affectionate that way.

"So good to see you. What a surprise. How's Nadia doing?"

I didn't have the heart to admit that I talked to Rob a lot more these days. I missed Nadia so much. Like she'd said, we had been together, inseparable, for years, so the separation sucked. Lately I woke up wanting to whisper to her like we used to, but instead I had an empty room. Sometimes I got up to reread her emails. The distance between us had started because I couldn't admit my real problems to her, and I had no idea how to fix things, how to get back to where we were.

So I said, "Last I knew, she's insanely busy with school, work and the practic.u.m. I don't know how she does it." Nadia was already working with special needs students a few days a week, and it sounded taxing.

Mrs. Conrad beamed. "I know. We're so proud of her."

At my back, Rob stiffened, and I had to wonder how often he'd heard that. Time to change the subject. "What's for dinner? Something smells wonderful."

"Homemade potpies-do you like them?" she asked, ushering me into the house.

"It would be impossible not to. It's so cool of you to feed me. My mom's quite the social b.u.t.terfly these days."

"So I hear. You'll have to tell me all about Stuart. She's too busy to gossip like we used to. Oh, dang, I need to..." Mrs. Conrad hurried to the kitchen with a mumbled request for us to take a seat.

There, that wasn't so bad. My anxiety receded. For him, I could do this, even tonight.

Rob pressed a hand between my shoulder blades to draw my attention and when I glanced up, he smiled. I glimpsed an ocean of grat.i.tude in his blue eyes.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

A week and a half later, I'd survived both dinner with Rob's parents and my first few days on the job. As expected, my new boss was kind of a pervert, but the woman I was replacing explained some tricks for keeping him in check, like never being alone with him behind closed doors and helping the sales and garage crew as much as possible.

"Why?" I asked.

Sh.e.l.ly paused in packing up her desk. This was the last day she'd be working with me. After today, I was on my own. "If the salesmen and the mechanics like you, they'll step in if they see Davies bothering you."

"Step in, how?"

"Ask you for a file or to make a call, maybe a cup of coffee."

"Ah, so I have an excuse to leave."

She nodded. "It's not like you're the manager's personal a.s.sistant. You're expected to support the dealership as needed."

"Are you leaving because you can't put up with it anymore?"

"Nope. I'm moving to Omaha. My fiance and I got transferred."

"Well, good luck."

Before Sh.e.l.ly left, they threw a farewell party for her with sparkling cider and cupcakes-and the guys from the service center seemed really b.u.mmed, which told me I had big shoes to fill. But all told, it wasn't that much different from working in the fine arts building. As the days pa.s.sed, the work didn't offer any challenges I couldn't handle, and I was making progress with the stick shift.

It was Tuesday night, and I was on my way home from a successful day at the dealership. All things considered, I was in a good mood, though I missed hanging out with Rob. He'd texted earlier to tell me that he'd finished the dining room completely. Though it was March, it was still cold enough to snow, as proved by the whiteness spluttering down. My phone buzzed.

Get milk, my mom ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." I pulled into the Stop & Go parking lot, along with four other cars. In another two minutes, I would've pa.s.sed the store.

After the deepening dusk outside, the lights were so bright that I stood for a few seconds blinking as I wiped my feet. A red-haired woman had her back to me, browsing the snack shelves. From behind, she was slender and graceful, even bundled for cold weather. I have a bad feeling about this. As if she sensed me looking at her, she turned-and across the racks of pastries and engine oil, I locked eyes with Avery Jacobs.

Seeing her with Rob last Thanksgiving had driven me crazy. I'd gone out of my way to avoid her; we hadn't exchanged more than ten words. But seeing her now that she was Rob's ex wasn't any better, especially when I compared us. There was no question she was beautiful: tall and slim, natural red hair, stunning features and cool green eyes. Girls had whispered they must be contacts, but if you peered close enough, there was no telltale ring. Her hair was a little shorter, a few more layers, and if anything, she was even thinner than she had been in November.

s.h.i.t. Well, this will be awkward. I swung my gaze away and headed for the freezer at the back of the store. Gallon of milk, coming up. But before I could open it, someone grabbed my arm. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Pulling free, I said, "Hey, Avery. I didn't know you were back in town."

"How can you stand yourself?" she demanded.

"Excuse me?" There was an old man trying to get past me to the beer, so I sidestepped, coming up against the hot dog-and-nacho counter.

"You crashed and burned in Michigan, and then, it wasn't enough to ruin your life, you had to take a run at mine, too."