"You should be wearing hat, scarf and gloves," he said as we climbed in.

In the dim garage, I could only make out the strongest angles of his face: slope of nose and curve of jaw. My breath misted before me, and I rubbed my palms together, afraid to touch the steering wheel. "How old are you again? Forty-six? Besides, I thought I'd be working in your nice, warm house all day, no need for winter bundling. So you should really apologize for springing surprise stick lessons on me. I'm coping like a champ, right?"

He grinned and reached over to stick the key in the ignition. Ridiculous as it was, when his arm brushed close to me and the metal clicked in, my stomach fluttered. I was too fl.u.s.tered to listen when he explained how to start the car, so he had to repeat himself, and then I felt like such a dips.h.i.t that my cheeks burned like twin emergency flares. So much for learning to relax around him. Somehow I managed to pump the gas while doing whatever with the clutch well enough to start the motor. The truck sounded like it was in good shape.

"Let it run for a few minutes, get the engine good and hot." Seriously, did he have to say stuff like that? In anyone else, I'd be sure it was a double entendre, but that wasn't how he operated, and certainly not with me. He proved it by continuing, "It'll take a while for the heater to kick in, too."

Nodding, I rubbed my hands together, trying and failing to warm them. Rob took over, pressing my fingers between his palms. My toes curled. "You know, the ancient Norse had a long tradition of warming their hands on each other's bellies."

I didn't expect that to work, but Rob rewarded me with another smile. I'd say all kinds of crazy s.h.i.t to keep him looking at me like that...while holding my hands. The next moment proved definitively that I didn't have mind-control powers, though, because the frantic refrain of kiss me kiss me kiss me running through my head didn't stop him from letting go.

"Good thing I'm not Norse," he said, checking the vents for hot-air flow.

You're better, like Thor's hotter, sweeter cousin. But I didn't say it out loud. He didn't enjoy being praised for his looks; in fact, it made him feel bad, probably because n.o.body but me could find any other good points to mention. I could've written a dissertation on The Ways Robert Clayton Conrad Is Completely Awesome, but for some reason, no graduate program was offering credit for this expertise.

"Explain the gears to me one more time?" The imprint of what gears were located where had faded somewhat over the years. Rob doubtless knew it by touch, but I was a manual novice. Any other guy would be making all the p.e.n.i.s jokes in the world, but he only repeated the information with imperturbable calm.

"Got it?" he asked.

I huffed out a breath. "I'm freaking out. I'll ruin your truck. You shouldn't trust me to do this-there's snow on the ground."

"But not on the roads," he said patiently. "Put it in Reverse, give it some gas. You can do it, Lauren. You're smart and it's not that hard. If I can learn, anyone can."

Only the fact that I was doing things with both feet and backing out of his garage while trying not to hyperventilate kept me from yelling at him. Even though I grew up mult.i.tasking, I could only do so many things at once. Swear to G.o.d, I was seeing stars by the time I cleared the doors, and my hands were shaking on the wheel.

"You weren't kidding," he said, brows furrowing. Then his hands were on my shoulders and he brought my face really close, to the point I could feel the warmth of his breath and see the dark stubble on his chin. I'd never been this close to Rob's mouth, his amazing, perfectly shaped mouth. But he maintained eye contact, intent on calming me down. "It's okay. You've got this. You can do it. Breathe for me. Okay? In. Out."

He probably didn't mean for me to think about s.e.x when he said that, but I couldn't help where my mind went. Ironically, it took care of my nerves and made me squirmy, suddenly aware of the powerful engine rumbling the seat of the old truck. I'd much rather climb on top of Rob than learn how to drive stick, but he registered that I was no longer a vibrating anxiety ball and let go of me.

"Better? I don't want to force you."

This wasn't even a full-on panic attack. Imagine how he'd react if he ever saw one. Because I couldn't stand for him to think of me as broken, I nodded. "Let's do it."

Then the lesson commenced for real. I stalled out the first time I switched out of Reverse and it took me forever to turn the truck around. But I did not launch the vehicle through the wall of his house and I eventually made it down his driveway. I had another mini-panic attack about getting out on the open road, but once I made the turn, upshifting wasn't such a problem. He explained how I'd likely have the most trouble at stop signs and traffic lights-that downshifting was trickier, unless I was going up a mountain.

At that point, I laughed and shook my head. "I have no plans to take your truck any farther than work and home. I'm afraid I'll ruin it."

"Don't be nervous," he said. "You're already better than I was my first time. My granddad predicted I'd strip the gears, the way I was going, and the transmission would fall out." He paused. "That didn't happen, either. In time, you'll be so good at this, you'll wonder why you were ever scared. Turn here."

Here was the Walmart parking lot. I managed to stop the truck and shut it off without anything catastrophic happening. "Thanks." At the inquiring tilt of his head, I added, "That wisdom applies to every new thing I'll ever try in my life."

He shot me a surprised look. "Seriously?"

"Well, yeah."

"n.o.body's ever said that to me...when they weren't f.u.c.king around."

"It's good advice." Hesitating, I wondered if I should admit this, but he'd said that we were friends. "I'm not very adventurous. It stresses me out to change my routine. In some respects I'm close to obsessive about doing things the same way."

That was part of why I was so unhappy in Michigan- because I was fighting my instinctive tendencies, playing a role and thinking if I just tried hard enough, I could just feel like other people did, and I could act like the stress of seeing hundreds of people daily didn't bother me. Nadia was fine with it, but she was closer to normal. She didn't spend an hour bracing for social contact and when we went out, she was more or less herself whereas I was always playing a part-the role of extrovert Lauren.

For a few seconds, he didn't reply, and I wished I hadn't opened up. Swallowing hard, I dredged up a cheerful expression. "Too much, huh? So did you want to get something or-"

"I count things," he said.

"Huh?"

"I don't like odd numbers, either."

Astonished, I studied him, trying to decide if he was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with me. But the slightly anxious pleat between his brows promised sincerity.

"I'm not crippled by it or anything, but when I take nails out of a package, I always get two, and I decided not to buy the first house I liked because the address ended in three." He stared at his hands like he expected me to condemn him for being weird, when I'd just confessed to being overly attached to my little rituals.

Learning this made Rob feel more like a real friend, less the guy who solved my problems and who I'd never get to be with for oh-so-many reasons. It helped to discover he had quirks, too, in addition to the insecurity over the looks-versus-brains dichotomy I already knew about.

I leaned over and b.u.mped my shoulder against his. "Your secret is safe with me."

Rob's gaze was steady on mine. For a few seconds, I felt like he actually saw me-not as Nadia's friend or his surrogate sister, but as a person-and that moment was electric. His fingers flexed against his knees, then he cleared his throat.

"I don't need anything from in there. I just thought you could practice driving around the parking lot. It's empty over there."

"Got it, boss." Without prompting, I started the truck, and the engine only sputtered a little when I backed out, swapping from Reverse.

We had been looping for half an hour while I practiced going from first to second when a blue Honda Civic pulled into the lot. I didn't recognize the girl driving it, but Rob clearly did. From what I could see through her window, she was in her early twenties, shoulder-length dark hair, round face and turned up nose. I'd call her plain, but that might be a result of the scowl. After a few seconds, I placed her as someone who'd hung out with Avery in high school, though she'd put on some weight since graduation, judging by the fullness of her cheeks.

Staring at Rob, she nearly hit us, and he shifted all the way around, clearly torn on how to handle things. Since it was a near miss, not a collision, I didn't have to stop or give insurance information, but he signaled for me to park near the other vehicle. The girl glared until Rob hopped out, hands in his pockets, and he went to the driver's side. He didn't ask me to come, so I stayed where I was, but a nosy impulse made me crack my window to eavesdrop.

"This is what you're doing when Avery's out of town?" she was snapping.

"What?" He glanced over his shoulder at me with a puzzled look.

"I can't believe you're hooking up with some s.k.a.n.k behind her back."

Hey. This is not a s.k.a.n.ky outfit. At most, these sweats are hoochie. They didn't even claim that my a.s.s was "Juicy."

Sadly, there was n.o.body to appreciate the genius of my silent retort. Besides, Rob had more cla.s.s than to cruise the Walmart parking lot with his side piece, but this girl didn't know him at all. If she did, she wouldn't be spitting accusations like that. I half wanted to get out of the car and pull her hair, then shout at her that he'd never cheat on Avery, especially with me, but that would likely make things worse and escalate the situation to reality TV levels of awful.

Shock must've paralyzed him for a few seconds. Then he said, "Lauren is my sister's best friend. And I'm giving her driving lessons."

"Let me guess," the girl purred. "You're teaching her all about how to handle stick?"

Rob's jaw tightened, but he didn't answer. She screeched off, nearly running over his feet in the process. He was pale when he came up to the window, anger written all over his face. No good deed goes unpunished. When Avery found out he was loaning me Tessa Green-tea, her head would explode. She couldn't understand what kind of guy Rob was, or that he was thoughtful without expecting s.e.x in return. Or maybe I was just being judgmental; for the sake of his relationship, I should probably hope I was wrong.

"Sorry," he said, "for getting you involved in that. It never occurred to me that anyone would take this the wrong way."

I found it pretty surprising, too. Avery's friend had leaped to that conclusion so fast, I had to wonder what kinds of reports she had been getting. Were there problems I didn't know about? Rob didn't talk that much about his girlfriend with me...not that I wanted him to. It was painful hearing about her and then imagining them together.

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shook his head. "Looks like we're cutting this short today. I have to call Avery before Jillian does."

I understood why he wouldn't want to with me sitting here, listening in. "It's okay. I'm sorry for messing things up for you."

"You didn't. It's a misunderstanding. I'll fix it."

A tiny, horrible part of me hoped that he couldn't.

CHAPTER SIX.

The next morning, Rob delivered my bed. I was expecting him to pick me up to work on his house, not for my furniture to arrive, but I stepped back so he could bring the pieces inside. He was quiet as he disa.s.sembled my old bed frame, then he asked, "Where do you want it?"

I could tell he was upset, but if he wanted to talk, he'd invite me into his business. So I answered, "Let's store it in the attic for now."

We had one of those doors that pulled down from the ceiling. With easy physical prowess, he stowed the components and then put the new bed together. Like Rob's, it was made of salvaged wood, platform base attached to railroad ties and a slatted headboard that gave it an intricately woven aspect. The red chestnut stain was beautiful, too. My mom was still working on the red plaid cover and curtains, so my lavender stuff looked even girlier against the rugged wood, but the bed gave the room some much-needed character. Once we repainted, it would look like a different s.p.a.ce altogether.

"This looks fantastic." Inwardly I was giddy as a schoolgirl over having a bed that matched Rob's. There was no way I wouldn't fantasize about that.

As he finished up, he said without looking at me, "I broke up with Avery."

My immediate reaction was, Yes! But I knew better than to say it out loud.

"What happened?" I had some idea, but it would do him good to get it out. And selfishly, I wanted to hear it.

"She said some unforgivable things." He set the mattress in place, and with his help, I made up the bed.

Then I sat down on it, inviting a longer conversation. It was a little weird to have Rob in my room, given how many of my fantasies he'd starred in over the years, but right now, he needed a friend. "Like what?"

With a faint sigh, he plonked onto the foot. "She didn't believe me when I explained that you're helping me with the house. Or why you needed driving lessons."

"Didn't she know about the house already?" The lessons had been an unexpected development, and it would be weird to call your girlfriend at work for permission.

Rob blinked at me. "It didn't seem like a big deal. I've known you forever."

Mentally I sighed. While he might see me as a s.e.xless foster sister, Avery probably didn't view our hanging out in the same light. I hated empathizing with her. Again. But this didn't seem like the time to tell Rob he'd screwed up. Clearly he already felt bad enough.

He continued, "It sucks that she thought I'd cheat, but-"

"With me of all people?" His incredulity stung, reinforcing how he absolutely did not see me as a woman. "Yeah, right."

"No, that's not what I mean. You'd never hook up with someone else's boyfriend. And it p.i.s.ses me off that she said you did. Especially when I'm him."

"Wait...so you broke up because of what she said about me?"

His mouth tightened. "She crossed the line. I can fix a lot of things, but I can't change a person with that kind of mind. And if she doesn't trust me now, it's unlikely to get better."

Since I didn't want him dating Avery in the first place, I could hardly argue, but it seemed odd that he was more bothered by what she said about me than by her condemnation of his own behavior. "You're mad about what she said about you, too, right?"

Rob shrugged. "I've heard it before."

"What?"

"That I'm too dumb to notice when somebody's. .h.i.tting on me. Mind you, I don't enjoy being accused of s.h.i.t I didn't do." But he seemed more resigned than angry; his outrage was reserved for me, apparently.

"And wouldn't. You're positive I'd never go after a guy who's taken, but I know you, Rob. You'd never cheat on your girlfriend, either." I paused, wondering if it was too soon to ask. But what the h.e.l.l. If they got back together, at least I'd know the answer. "What did you like most about her?" It couldn't be as simple as her looks.

He sighed softly. "She said I had potential."

"Excuse me?"

"Avery was always saying I could make something of myself if I tried. n.o.body else ever thought that, not even when I was a kid. My parents talked about Nadia going to college from the time she was eight years old, but with me, it was always, 'Rob's got a good heart. Rob gets along so well with people.' My aunt's always mumbling, 'At least he's handsome,' like I don't know what that means."

Wow. I normally liked Rob and Nadia's family, but right then I wanted to punch them.

He went on, "There was a state school that offered me an athletic scholarship. Football. But my dad goes, 'Some people are meant to work with their hands, and there's no shame in it. I got you through high school but I can't carry you to a four-year degree. So unless you can make it on your own, I think you have to pa.s.s.'"

"Why didn't you try?"

"Because he was right," he said quietly. "I'd have needed tutors to get through pretty much every cla.s.s and I'm not so great at football that the university would've paid for that, definitely not good enough to go pro. Even if I did squeak out a degree, I can't think of any job that would suit me better than what I'm doing. So what would've been the point?"

I had no answer for that. Though I had all kinds of quirks, my brain was sharp enough to do pretty much anything I wanted it to. Rob's pain was tangible, built up over years of people dismissing him as a sweet, good-natured lummox without the acuity to register the offense of it. And that just wasn't true. I reached over and took his hands; they were big and rough, a testament to years of building. He cupped his fingers around mine, apparently taking comfort in the connection. For me, it wasn't enough. But he didn't let down his walls often enough for me to pull back.

"So then Avery came along. She was smart, pretty and ambitious. When we started dating, she said she saw the potential for greatness in me-between the two of us, we could go places. With her help, I could run my own business. That's why she was so critical...she was trying to make me better."

I didn't think that was why at all, but now I understood why Rob let her get away with it-because of what she represented. She was clever, no question, and if it took her questioning my morals to make him break free, then I wouldn't argue that point. But I couldn't let the other a.s.sumption stand.

"That's predicated on the bulls.h.i.t opinion that you need fixing," I snapped. "You don't need to be molded into somebody else. Right now, without Avery's help, you can run a business. Outsource the bookkeeping. A lot of business owners do it to free up time for more important stuff. And you can do it without listening to somebody catalogue your faults."

He stared at me with a guarded expression. "You think I can make a go of the furniture design thing we talked about?"

"Absolutely. That, or house flipping. You're kind of amazing. I mean, you're a great cook, you bought a house already and you're renovating it top to bottom. I've already learned a lot from working with you. Bottom line, I believe in you, Rob, and not because I'm sleeping with you. I don't want to change anything about who you are. I also don't expect you to make a ton of money and buy me things." I stared at him, hard, willing him to make the connection.

Comprehension dawned slowly, but there it was. "I had a lucky escape, huh? If I'd married her, the divorce would've wiped me out."

There was no benefit to being anything but brutally honest. "Knowing you, if there were kids involved, you would've stuck it out, no matter what she did or said."

"Probably," he admitted.

I grinned. "Then you should thank me for being such an irresistible home wrecker."

"Thanks, Lauren." He tugged gently on our joined hands and I tumbled into his arms.

He smelled of minty soap and snowy air, a freshness that made me breathe him in. I was in no hurry to get free, so I tucked my face against his neck and shivered each time he exhaled into my hair. Maybe he thought it was weird that I didn't just thump him on the back a few times, but the last time he held me this way, I was sobbing too hard to enjoy it. This time I registered the strength of his chest and arms, his fierce, protective heat. Once Rob came down on your side, he never wavered. His hands were gentle as he stroked my back; each pa.s.s lit me up with more tingles.