Page 58 of Cowboy's Last Stand
“I want to kiss you goodbye in the morning,” he said.“What harm would that do?”
“It would give Marcus the wrong idea.”
“The idea that we’re more than friends?”
“Yes.”
“He already has that idea.”
“We don’t have to reinforce it.”
Jason didn’t argue because he shouldn’t be kissing her at all.He’d decided to stay to protect her, not to take her to bed.If they slept together, and she found out who he really was, she would never forgive him.She wouldn’t forgive him, regardless.Sex would just make his deception more treacherous.
Being aware of this problem didn’t mean he was capable of doing the right thing in the heat of the moment.He couldn’t resist her.His physical desire was an unstoppable force.She needed only to crook her finger, and he’d come to her.He’d considered acting cool, like he wasn’t crazy about her.It simply wasn’t in him.Instead, he would focus on menial tasks and exhaust himself with strenuous activity.He’d been using this avoidance strategy for months, with good results.Why not continue?
After he mixed the grout, he showed her how to apply it to the backsplash in the kitchen.
“Did you buy these?”she asked, indicating the new tile.
“No.There was a box in the garage.”
“My grandparents had a box of everything in the garage.”
“They didn’t throw away much,” he agreed.
“I think I’ll go visit my grandma tomorrow.We skipped last weekend.”
“You go every week?”
“Yes.”She smoothed the grout with the trowel.“I didn’t mean to tell you a sob story about my childhood.I was better off with my grandparents.They were good caretakers.They treated me like gold.”
“As they should.”
“I’ve always wondered if my mother was born shallow or became that way because of her looks.Did I tell you she was Miss Texas?”
“Beauty didn’t make you shallow,” Jason pointed out.
She concentrated on the grout, falling quiet.He left her to the job and started his own.He had to cut out the damaged section of flooring.The process was time-consuming.He’d only done a third of it when Natalie came to him, ready for the next task.
“Do you want to try the sander?”he asked.
“Sure.”
He instructed her to don a dust mask and knee pads.She complied gamely.He showed her how to run the sander, which required strength to control the vibrations.While he continued to remove floor pieces, she sanded a different area.He kept his eyes averted from her backside with some difficulty.
She gave up after an hour, pulling off her mask.She’d already discarded her sweatshirt.Her cheeks were flushed from exertion.“I can’t do this anymore.My arms feel like jelly.”
“No problem,” he said.“Take a break.”
“It’s time for lunch, anyway.”
He finished the floor repair before she returned with a plate of sandwiches, a handful of vanilla cookies, and two Cokes.She’d taken the bandanna out of her hair, releasing her dark curls.They ate sandwiches sitting side by side on the wood floor.She snuck a few glances at him, chewing speculatively.
“How long can you run that sander?”she asked.
“As long as it takes.”
“I got tired after one hour.”
