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He released her hand, only to thread his fingers through hers, and stared at her across that whopping two inches of bed. She wanted to ask where they were going with this, but she knew the inevitable end, and it wouldn’t be pretty. Not if she fell for him, and especially not if he fell for her. Because he’d just friend-zoned her, making it clear where he stood. And even if he made some crazed leap back to the land of the living, he wasn’t the kind of man a woman left behind, and she had no intention of giving up her dream just because a hot guy showed up in her life.
Not even for those electric green eyes and a body that would make a nun sob for sweet relief.
“Don’t tempt me,” he said softly.
“Don’t ask to be tempted,” she shot back. Beg for it.
He grinned, all slow and sexy and—
Crash.
They jerked apart.
“Ah, hell,” he mumbled. “I have a dog now, don’t I?” He rolled to his feet and sprinted out of the room, Rue right behind him.
One of the barstools parked at the end of the counter was lying over, with Shaggy sitting pitifully at its feet. Above her, the boxes of takeout Ethan had ordered sat in a neat row far back from the edge, still safe for now. “I guess we’re not the only ones who like Chinese,” Rue said.
“Abbie said no people food, so Shaggy can forget it.” He pointed to her food and water dishes, neither of which was empty. “I’m starving, though, and I can’t touch that cake until we eat, so I say we remove temptation.”
She grinned. “Is it that easy?”
He leaned close—reaching for the food, she realized a beat too late—but he paused before he left her airspace. And he set fire to her libido when he whispered, “Not even close.”
Her breath thoroughly stolen, she just stood, numb, while he gathered plates and utensils. It must have finally dawned on him that she hadn’t moved because he stopped and gave her a curious look.
His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“You suck at friendship.” Not what she’d meant to say, but it did suffice.
“Because I stole your dog?” His grin suggested he was toying with her again. Maybe he did have a flaw. He was either teasing or dead-wife serious. No real middle ground.
But middle ground could be dangerous.
“No.” She sighed. “Well, yes. That was really sweet. You really know how to muddle the waters of a temporary acquaintance.”
He half shrugged. “Honestly? I really didn’t adopt her for you. That was for me.”
She’d known as much—he didn’t seem to be the type to take on a pet because he liked a girl—but nevertheless, the admission saddened her. And she hated herself for that because Shaggy deserved a loving home and Rue had no doubt she found that with Ethan. She wanted that sincerity behind what he’d done. “But you wanted me to know.”
“I thought you might worry if she wasn’t there next time you showed up,” he said dryly.
“You could have texted me.”
“I did.”
Rue threw up her hands. “You’re being difficult. On purpose.”
“It comes naturally.” He offered an easy grin and leaned back against the counter. Like he was proud of it. Like he knew how irresistibly cute he was and that wasn’t supposed to drive her crazy.
“That doesn’t help,” she shot back. Not helpful in more ways than one.
He crossed his arms and kicked one foot in front of the other. “Well, then. Since you’re already irritated, can I ask you something?”
“That segue is worrisome.” Especially since he’d taken the classic defensive arm-crossing position. She leaned to scratch Shaggy, who had wandered over to her, and braced herself.
“Can you explain your hair?”
She laughed. “No.”
He shook his head like he’d given up. “And somehow that does. Explain it, I mean.”
“It’s different,” she said. She lowered her voice and mumbled, “And so I won’t look like a Barbie.”
He nearly dropped the chicken he was pilfering from the takeout box. He caught her staring and asked, “General Tso’s?” When she nodded, he scooped some onto both plates. After a moment, she realized his shoulders were shaking. He was laughing.
