Page 57 of The Cowboy's Christmas
“That wasn’t a rejection,” Quinn said, stopping her in her retreating tracks.
“Huh,” she said in a disbelieving voice. Damn, but she sounded in control. Hopefully she could keep it up for a while.
“No. That was a stab at making sure we don’t find ourselves in a situation we’ll regret later. A situation we’re not ready for.”
“Wemeaningme, of course.” Because she was the fragile one.
Well, maybe she was done with fragility.
He slowly shook his head. “We meaning us.”
Meaning he was fragile, too? Maybe he was. Maybe that was why he refused to settle in one place.
Rather than ask, Savannah pushed her hands so deeply into her pockets that she was surprised that the seams weren’t busting apart. How crazy was it that walking away from Quinn Harding, even after being embarrassed, was this difficult?
He took a step forward and ran a hand over her shoulder. “I like you, Savannah. I don’t want to screw that up.”
He liked her, but she had a feeling that, despite knowing this guy for a very short time, she might be on the path to more than liking him, which was why this stung so much.
And maybe he’d figured that out.
Maybe that was why he was stepping back. He didn’t want his autonomy threatened. His reluctance to build a relationship with his brothers pointed to that.
“All right,” she said with a lift of her chin. “I’ll see you when we feed tomorrow. And when we go to Marietta—”
“No hovering. Got it.”
She took a backward step, then pivoted and headed back to the house with a lot more to think about than she had when she’d left. Why had she invited herself in?
Because they kissed and it was good?
Or was it because she felt ready to move on, and being with Quinn, a trustworthy guy if there ever was one, might be a way to prove that to herself?
Her steps slowed. Wasn’t that kind of like using the guy?
Not if you care for him.
That again.
She let out a breath as she opened the front yard gate, then headed up the walk, stomping the snow off her boots at the door.
She went into the house, eyed the bourbon bottle still on the counter, then put it in the cabinet next to the fridge. No sense adding a hangover to the mix. After shrugging out of her heavy coat, she hugged it to her chest for a moment.
Had she really been ready for what she’d proposed to Quinn in the literal heat of the moment?
She’d felt ready and that surprised her.
She hung the coat, then glanced out the window, studying the faint glow of the light spilling from the apartment window on the far side of the barn.
Even after being turned away, she wanted to walk out the door and head for that light—moth to flame. But instead of burning, this flame would move on because he was a self-proclaimed wanderer who was avoiding contact with his brothers.
She walked through the kitchen, turning off the light as she turned toward the living room instead of her bedroom.
There was something else she needed to do.
*
“Good news,” Dekesaid when Savannah came into the kitchen the next morning, yawning as she walked. He gave her a look. “Sleepless night?”
