For the next two days, Ian played Lucy's personal tour guide, showing her everything the estate had to offer.He kept his distance and could tell she was doing the same.When the conversation took a more intimate turn, she hid behind her camera lens or changed the subject.They were both scared.Both overwhelmed by the possibility of what was truly happening between them.
On one hand, he was glad she wasn't throwing anymore surprise kisses his way.On the other hand, he was annoyed with himself.He didn't run scared.He faced things head on.At least he used to.Before Lucy.
She'd somehow become a measure of time.Life Before Lucy.Life After Lucy.
Spending time with her while keeping his distance, when everything inside of him said, "touch her, damn it!"was beginning to eat at him.He couldn't get her out of his head, out of his dreams, and out of his fantasies in the shower every morning.
Whatever took the edge off.
He opened his bedroom door, mentally preparing himself for another day when he realized with sickening clarity.She'd be leaving soon.
Gone.
Ian stopped dead in his tracks.His heart skipped a hard, painful beat and his grip tightened around the doorknob.
A door opened down the hall and Lucy appeared.She began walking toward the stairs, but stopped.Sensing he was there, she glanced over her shoulder.Ian didn't move, he wasn't sure he could.After a long moment, she broke eye contact and came toward him, stopping several feet away."Coming?"
"Yeah," he said, shaking off the heaviness he felt.
Ian was definitely distracted, Lucy thought, as they headed down the hall.
The last couple days were wearing her thin.They'd fall into conversation as easily as if they'd known each other their whole lives.Inevitably that would lead to one of them saying something intimate or suggestive, which would lead to long heated looks and then withdrawal.Distance.
She was getting sick of it.It wasn't working.It didn't make her want him less.It only made her want him more.So much so that she'd began tucking a Mammoth Man into her pocket every morning.Just in case.She felt like an idiot, but Ian ...just looking at him, his hard body, rugged features, his I-could-rock-your-world-harder-than-diamonds grin.It was too much to take.
She wanted more than just his conversation, his tours, his presence.She wanted him buck-ass naked…
"Lucy?"
She blinked, finding her bearings.In front of the shed.Ian holding out a fishing rod."Right.Fishing."Her cheeks were red hot as she took the pole.He looked really good today, aggravatingly so.Black T-shirts and Ian MacLaren should be illegal.Her frustration growing, she watched him load the Rover with fishing gear and then they were off to try and catch dinner.As they went, Ian explained all about fishing, the types of fish in the river, the popularity of the sport, and so on.She was pretty sure, on any other day, she'd find it interesting.But not today.
Today everything was getting to her.
This ...thingwith Ian, whatever it was, was getting to her.
And she knew something had to give.
And it started to give the moment, they exited the Rover and Ian knelt to help her put on waders.He knelt in front of her as she placed her hands on his wide shoulders.When he looked up at her and smiled, her heart tripped.As he shimmied the waders over her jeans and pulled the suspenders over her shoulders, she could smell the faint scent of aftershave or cologne.
He seemed to be taking an awfully long time.
The rushing water made the air cool, but it didn't stop Lucy from breaking into a sweat.She never knew being dressed in fishing gear could be such a turn on.
"One sec," he said quietly, leaning closer as he reached behind her to adjust a strap.
His neck was inches from her face.She drew in a deep breath of him and stifled a groan.
"What was that?"Ian straightened and stepped back, clearing his throat.
"Nothing."Lucy picked up the tackle box."So we ready to do this?Catch our dinner, live off the land?"
He laughed, grabbing the rods and a cooler.They headed for the river."Just warning you, once you've had my grilled trout, you'll beg me to come out here every week to—" Ian's mouth clamped shut, and he focused on the river with laser intent.
A sick feeling twisted Lucy's gut.She wasn't staying.There'd be no future days with Ian fishing for dinner, Ian helping her down from the boat, Ian smiling at her from across the kitchen table as Fran chatted on and on…
She might never see him again.
A sense of doom settled over her as Ian set the cooler down and took the tackle box from her hand.He rooted around the box and attached lures to their lines all while Lucy stared at the rushing water and the painfully beautiful view.
