"Don't worry about it."

"Well, I am. You sound like you might pull his arm off and beat him to death with it."

"'Night, Lauren. See you tomorrow."

With that hanging between us, it was a wonder I slept, but the short night with Rob, plus work, left me exhausted. I was awake by six, though, a rarity, so I went down and got on my mom's elliptical. It had been a while since I'd worked out, but I needed to occupy myself, and this was better than killing things online before work. Also, if I started gaming first thing, I knew myself, and I'd likely end up calling in sick. Not the best move when your not-boyfriend might be planning to bludgeon your boss to death.

Today, once I showered, I dressed in the pencil skirt I'd worn on the interview. I paired it with a pink sweater and I spent half an hour on hair and makeup. My mom got up late by contrast, racing out without drinking the cup of coffee I offered. The worst thing about driving Tessa Green-tea was climbing in and out in heels, plus she was cranky first thing in the morning.

I delivered the b.u.t.thead's coffee without being asked, but he was curt. No smarmy smile for me today. How sad. Apparently he couldn't objectify me if I was breeding. I was grinning when I went back to my desk.

We had been open for no more than half an hour when Rob pulled into the parking lot. Unquestionably, I was biased, but he looked even better than usual in a red plaid shirt and an expensive-looking leather jacket lined with sheepskin. The scruff on his jaw said he didn't shave this morning, and his mouth was set in a firm line.

He beelined toward me, ignoring the attention he was attracting on a slow morning. "Where's your boss?"

"I don't think this is such a good idea."

"You asked me to come, Lauren. Well, I'm here. Do you trust me?" That was so unfair since I'd asked him that before, and from him, the answer was always yes.

Swallowing hard, I nodded.

His eyes lightened, though he still looked grim. He no longer radiated murderous intent, just enough menace that one of the sales guys dodged out of his path as he strode toward the manager's office. I wished I could be a fly on the wall for this conversation, but to my frustration, Davies shut the door when Rob stepped in, so I had no idea what was going on. I craned my neck, watching through the gaps in the blinds. Rob stood across the desk, arms folded, speaking quietly to Davies. Whatever he said made the older man tug at his tie and back up a step. Rob tilted his head, said something else. Davies nodded emphatically.

Then the conversation was over. Rob strolled back to me, completely at ease. "Problem solved. I made him understand my point of view."

"Which is?" I whispered.

"I think you know."

"That if he messes with me, you break his kneecaps?"

"Not exactly. But close enough."

I sighed. "I wish we lived in a world without guys like that. If life was fair, I wouldn't need you to threaten perverts for me."

"It wasn't a threat," he said softly. "If he makes you uncomfortable, it'll go bad for him. I'll make him sorry."

"Then you'll go to jail. Not sure I agree with the merits of this plan."

Weirdly, uncomfortably, two conflicting emotions wrestled around inside me: pleasure and dismay, the former because he'd hurt somebody for me, and the latter that I couldn't do it myself. Rob was the kind of guy who solved problems with the tools to hand; he wasn't a thinker. With him, you got a hammer-and-nail guy. And I didn't really want to change him.

"I don't have to do anything." Rob winked. "He just has to believe I will. There are plenty of girls who don't have psychotic boyfriends, and that b.a.s.t.a.r.d goes after low-hanging fruit. The minute it looks like it might be tough, he's out."

"So you made me seem like more trouble than I'm worth." For a guy who didn't think much of his own brain, this was a solid plan, better than my having-a-baby gambit.

"Yeah. I think the twitch when I said your name was a nice touch."

I laughed. "You're amazing."

"Just so you know, I'm about to kiss you, just to make sure you don't have trouble with anyone else."

"Marking your territory with an inappropriate PDA?" I teased.

"Unless you tell me no." The softness in his eyes told me he'd listen.

"I doubt I'll ever be able to say that to you."

With Davies and the sales team looking on, Rob kissed the c.r.a.p out of me. If he hadn't let me go, I'd probably have banged him on the reception desk. He touched the tip of my nose and said loudly, "See you tonight."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

Work was better the next day.

After my shift, I had dinner at Rob's, then we shot another vlog. In this one, he was hanging cabinets. While I worked, he'd finished the formerly broken wall, so the archway was professionally framed, no longer a mess of broken plaster, bare wires and exposed posts. I asked a few leading questions to get him started, and once Rob was comfortable, he gave a great performance. He explained the progress he'd made since the last video and included the viewer in the project through body language and expression.

"That looks fantastic," I said.

He smiled, though he didn't stop until he finished with the installation. "This is actually kind of fun. Sorry to make you wait, but-"

"No, it's fine. The kitchen will be done soon, won't it?"

"Another week or two, depending on how hard I work."

I surveyed the progress. The subflooring was gone, replaced by a gorgeous wood grain. Kneeling to touch it, I realized it wasn't hardwood, though it was close enough to the dining room in shade that I doubted anyone would notice the difference.

"Vinyl?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's more durable and easier to clean, better for in here."

"Have you decided on countertops?" There were no counters or lower cabinets at all. He'd built the upper ones from scratch, then finished them with a lovely, mellow stain. Rob used half of the garage as his workshop, but really, he should have a separate building. If he started getting orders from our venture, like I hoped, then I'd suggest it.

"Do you want to see?" He was adorably eager to show me.

"Definitely."

He got his phone and flipped through to a picture he must've taken in a showroom somewhere. The pattern was earth tones, varying brown, caramel and dark chocolate. "Looks like granite, but easier to care for and more durable."

"I like it. I bet it'll be beautiful."

"I'm holding off on buying it until I get the cabinets finished. You want to stay for dinner? I just need to shower and sweep up the dust."

"You shower, I'll take care of it."

"I can't let you clean my kitchen." By his expression, you'd think I had suggested something truly scandalous.

"You can if you expect me to eat here."

"Fine." Rob drew me close in a tender gesture.

I breathed in his warm, delicious scent: cut wood, touch of clean sweat, along with the freshness of his soap. My eyes drifted closed. It wasn't in him to hurry this, and I stretched up to savor the heat of his mouth. His restrained longing flavored it with a sort of tempered urgency, his lips firm and knowing as he deepened the kiss. Already, he knew I liked it when he nibbled my lower lip, when he teased with his tongue and cupped my a.s.s to pull me up against him. My pulse trebled, and it took all my composure not to grab him when he eased back and rested his cheek against the top of my head.

"Wow," I whispered.

"There will be more of that after dinner. You know, it gets a little harder to let go of you every time I have to do it."

"You're just showering, not moving to China," I teased.

He raised his head, taking hold of my shoulders with a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. "Any chance you're feeling dirty?"

"Only always."

I giggled as he pounced and princess-carried me up the stairs. "Wait, I'm supposed to be sweeping the kitchen."

"Yeah, that's a hard choice-naked girl in the shower with me or fully dressed downstairs. Sometimes I wonder about your life choices."

"If you get me naked, I might not care about dinner," I warned.

"I already don't."

Rob started the water, and I stripped out of my clothes, then I got to watch him get naked. Working construction year after year, along with his side projects, gave him a body that made me drool. It was even hotter that his muscles came from actual work, not gym equipment, along with the rough hands that felt so good when he touched me. From broad shoulders to chest to abs, he was mouth-watering. Maybe I should be ashamed of objectifying him, but from his expression, he was doing the same thing to me.

"You are so gorgeous," he murmured.

His shower wasn't necessarily designed for two people, but we made it work. Washing up definitely qualified as foreplay, as I melted thoroughly, running soapy hands all over his body. What started out playful turned serious pretty fast. Rob didn't even let me wash my hair before he turned off the water.

"Are we done?"

"In here, we are."

"I suspect you of having nefarious intentions."

"I intend to make love to you."

"Cosigned."

We kissed down the hall, still shower-wet, dripping on the floors. The air was cold on my back, but with Rob plastered to my front, I didn't care. His hands were everywhere. More kissing, endless shivers of it, his mouth, my tongue, his teeth, his hands on my a.s.s, hauling me closer, so his c.o.c.k burned against my belly.

Rob tumbled me to the bed, tangling our legs together. With a wicked grin, he rolled me beneath him. "So many things I could do to you..."

"Make a list," I suggested, breathless.

I expected him to get down to it, but he went back to kissing, caressing my sides in long, lazy strokes. There was a new dimension to his touch, an intimacy I'd never known with anyone else. Fear p.r.i.c.kled to life, white noise interrupting the pleasure. Before long, Rob noticed, and he rolled to the side, a frown knitting his brows together.

"You're not into it?"

This was going to sound so stupid. "No, well, yes, but-"

"What?"

"It felt different."

"Not as good?" I groaned, covering my face with both hands. He pulled them away and pressed a kiss to each palm. "Talk to me."

There was no way I could explain the difference between f.u.c.king and making love out loud, but I knew when I felt it. Yet if I brought up the L word, he might feel pressured to say it, and I wasn't ready to say it back. My breath came in a nervous shudder as a shiver went through me, not the good kind, the about-to-melt-down-for-no-reason kind. Sometimes I hated my brain and would happily trade it for a beard of bees.

"I can't," I managed.

"Did I do something wrong? Hurt you? Has someone...hurt you?" By the clench of Rob's jaw, if the answer was yes, he'd put on pants and go kill that somebody.

"No, no and no." I scooted toward him and put my face in his chest, willing myself to calm down before this escalated.

"Come here, beautiful." The gentleness of his voice, paired with his strong arms, nearly unraveled me. "Just tell me what you want. If the answer is this, that's fine. We can lay here."

For a few minutes, I matched my breathing to his, and the worry scaled back. The fact that Rob cared enough about me to change how he touched me? That was a good thing. We didn't have to be in a hurry to define this or slap a label on it. Rob was silent and patient, just running his hands through my hair like that was all he wanted in the world.

"Okay, I'm better now. But seriously, how does this not p.i.s.s you off?"

Like most of my questions, he took this one seriously. Most guys would be like, It does, I still want to bang you. Rob eventually said in a thoughtful tone, "I don't understand why you freeze up, but...that's not new. I'm used to not getting things. So you just have to tell me what to do, and if you can't, then I'll wait until you can."

Right then, I almost blurted out how much I loved him. But I was afraid he wouldn't believe me, so soon on the heels of my freak-out. He might take it for grat.i.tude, and though it wasn't, I had to save the confession for the right time, preferably not when we were both naked. s.e.x also contributed to people blathering stuff they didn't mean.

When we made love, it was tender and slow, so gentle that I almost cried when I came. And that had never happened before. He wrapped his arms all the way around me, coming in for a kiss as he worked faster and faster, thrusting to a hot, trembling finish. I tasted his o.r.g.a.s.m in the gasping breaths against my lips. Unlike the last time, Rob didn't roll away immediately. He was big enough that when he shifted his weight off his arms and onto me, I sank into the mattress. The heat and weight of him didn't make me feel trapped, though. I loved holding him, stroking him through the afterglow.

We skipped dinner entirely that night.

The rest of the week went fast. On Thursday, I got word from admissions that I'd gotten into the computer science online program. Rob and I celebrated with dinner at the roadhouse, and then I spent the night at his place. He convinced me to start leaving a few things to make it easier to get ready for work. Truthfully, I didn't require much persuading.

Friday night, Avery picked me up on time. Krista and Jillian were already in the car. Since Avery drove a cute, powder-blue Beetle, that left Jillian and me in the backseat. I climbed in after Krista flipped the seat forward for me.

I hadn't gotten a great look at Jillian that day at Walmart, but up close in Avery's car, I recognized her from high school. Jillian Martinez was a chubby girl with brown hair and dark eyes. Her dad was from Mexico; G.o.d only knew why he'd decided Nebraska was the best place to settle. Maybe he really loved snow and agriculture programs. From her frown, Jillian hadn't forgiven me for stealing Rob. Which seemed weird since he was Avery's boyfriend, and if she was over it...

Jillian fixed a hard stare on me as I settled beside her. "So I hear you're having Rob's love child," she said.

My mouth dropped open. "Holy s.h.i.t. Already? Doesn't anyone in this town have a life?"

"You grew up in Sharon," Avery said. "So there's your answer."

"Is it true?" Krista peered over her shoulder at me.

"Lord, no. I made it up to discourage my pervert boss, who was about to offer me the lucrative position of chief k.n.o.b polisher."