Page 21 of White Collar Rancher

She held her breath, refusing to be the first to act on it.

All at once, the tension drained out of him and he dragged in an audible breath. Tipping his head back, he stared at the ceiling. “We’re friends, Priya. I don’t want to risk that.”

Someone might as well have tossed her in a snowbank. She wasn’t enough for him to put in the effort.

“Me, neither.” She hugged her arms around herself. Friend zoned. Justin had had a moment of weakness and she’d happened to be in the proximity. And she thought Emmett’s breakup excuse had been humiliating.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came—”

“Don’t you dare.” Her burst of anger was out of character, but her week had been too crappy to restrain it. “I’ve never been the sexpot who made men lose their minds, so if you keep going, it’s going to sound like you’re horrified you kissed someone like me.”

His look of shock melted into amusement. “Every time you wear leggings you’re a sexpot.”

A hot flush smeared her cheeks. She always wore leggings. “Wait until you see me in scrub pants.”

He flinched. “I have before. Once.”

She was about to ask when, but then horror flooded her. The night Maisy had died. And here she was kissing him. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. Not about—” His scowl danced around the kitchen before returning to her. “You and I are good. I don’t hold anything that happened against you.”

One of Maisy’s office visits ran through her head. Will a test tell me I’m pregnant this early?

But you used protection, right?

Maisy’s laugh still haunted her. She’d looked so hopeful. It was so old, Pri. It totally broke. I had a new pack, but I saw that one lying in the drawer and figured it was destiny. Justin had come back to me after all.

Since she was Maisy’s doctor and had never written her a prescription for birth control, Priya had ordered the pregnancy test. Never had she wanted to break the rules more than when the result pinged on her computer. Positive, and she hadn’t been allowed to give Justin a heads-up.

“She knew how to play both of us,” she said.

“Yeah. Sometimes I suspect she did more than that.” The intensity of his gaze deepened, like he was mentally ripping up the HIPPA policy and willing her to spill Maisy’s office confession. When she didn’t offer any confirmation, he propped one hand on the counter beside her. His other hand was on his hip, and he towered over her, but she didn’t feel intimidated. More like protected. “No one but you understands how it was for me. No one but me understands how it was for you.”

“And no one’s going to know because you have a son to raise and he can’t grow up hearing about how troubled his mom was.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “If it helps, I know what came over me.”

“Oh?” The heaviness drained out of the air around them.

“Yep. But I don’t know if I should tell you.” His expression turned cocky. “I don’t know how you feel about me.”

No way was she going to confess how she’d wanted him since puberty. But dropping the conversation now was just unfair. Couldn’t she have, if not one night with him, at least one conversation? A few moments to pretend their past wasn’t an emotionally loaded cannon with a short fuse? “You’re a good-looking guy. And you happen to be a decent man.”

“Just what every man wants to hear. I can hear the women falling over themselves now.”

She giggled. “Stop it.”

His expression sobered. “I trust you, and I can only say that about a few people. No one I’ve dated. I worry if we— I’m a single dad and I don’t even know yet how I’m going to work and raise my kid at the same time. I need your friendship more than I need…you know.”

“Sex?” The flare of heat in his eyes could’ve cooked the pork chops well done. “I’m a doctor, Justin. You can say it around me.”

“If I say it, then I’ll want it.”

That shut her up. But not for long. No matter how he’d couched it, he didn’t want to sleep with her. Or he didn’t want to want to sleep with her. “Right. And we can’t, apparently.”

She stepped out from the cove he’d made around her. He was also blocking the food, but she could set the table. Time to prepare for the most awkward meal ever.

“Priya.”

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