Page 43 of Resist

Again.

A girl could get used to this.

She sat up, touched when she noticed that Coulton had retrieved her clothes from where she’d stripped them off in the living room, folding them and leaving them on a chair near the bed.

She got dressed, then stepped into the bathroom, trying to finger comb the bedhead look from her hair, fluffing it as best she could.

Then, she followed her nose to the kitchen.

Coulton frowned when he saw her standing in the doorway. “Why are you dressed?”

She laughed. “Because mornings are usually when the one-night stands end.” Ainsley had meant her comment as a joke, but damn if Coulton’s frown didn’t deepen to a scowl.

“Last night wasn’t a one-night stand,” he informed her.

Now it was her turn to frown. “What was it?”

“Our first night together. First of many.”

She shook her head, ready to reassure him that wasnotwhat it was, but his next words distracted her.

“And you ruined my surprise.” Coulton gestured to a tray on the counter next to him. It held a glass of orange juice, as well as chocolate croissants and strawberries. He added a pile of bacon to another plate and placed it on the tray as well. “Breakfast in bed.”

Her eyes widened. “For me?”

He laughed. “Of course, for you. Unless you left a few friends back there in bed.”

She wanted to respond to his joke, but her throat was suddenly very tight. Because no one had ever done anything so nice for her. “I…” she said, her words failing her.

Coulton studied her face, then walked over to her, cupping her cheek with one of his large hands. “Another first?”

He’d been shocked by the fact she’d never had a bath, but surely he couldn’t feel the same way about breakfast in bed…could he? Because she didn’t know anyone who’d ever had a tray with the most delectable treats she’d ever seen delivered to them in bed.

“You and I have lived two very different lives,” she finally managed to choke out.

“I guess we have.”

“Which is why last night should just be a one-night stand, Coulton,” she forced herself to say. The more time she spent with him, the more danger she faced in terms of having her heart broken again. Montgomery had said sweet things too. Things she’d allowed to work their way into her heart before it became obvious they’d all been lines, things he’d said simply to get her into his bed. “I don’t fit into your world, and you sure as shit don’t want to fit into mine.”

Coulton gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Agree to disagree on that. Hey. I was wondering. Is the tavern ever closed?”

His subject changes were giving her whiplash.

“On Mondays.”

Coulton glanced toward his refrigerator. She followed his gaze and realized he’d tacked up his monthly schedule with a Stingrays magnet.

“Great. No game that day. Just afternoon practice. I’ll swing by your place at six.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m taking you out.” Ainsley clearly sucked at hiding her confusion, because he quickly added, “On a date.”

“A date would be a bad idea,” she said softly. What she should have said was “no,” but that word apparently was missing from her vocabulary whenever she was with Coulton.

“It’s a great idea,” he amended.

She crossed her arms, fighting to keep this thing between them casual. “You realize you don’t have to wine and dine me for sex.”

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