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She realized she’d poked her lip out in a pout. Apparently alcohol did not make for a great poker face.
When she nodded, Shane shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “So I found that show you told me about. I downloaded the first two episodes. I thought we could order a pizza. But you’re all dressed up, so maybe you’ve got other plans.”
“Are you kidding?” Keeping with the theme of not hiding her emotions, Merry clapped and squealed like a five-year-old presented with a princess dress. “I’d love to. Just let me—” She dragged a hand over the silver rope around her neck, meaning to say “get this stuff off,” but his eyes followed the slow slide of her hand, and Merry immediately changed her mind. She wasn’t exactly comfortable in jewelry and makeup, but she always felt some level of awkwardness around men. Better to feel the I’m-too-sparkly kind.
“Sure.” He finally focused on her face again. “I need to take a shower, so maybe in fifteen?”
They walked into the Stud Farm together, and Merry gave him an enthusiastic wave just before she closed her door, likely looking as nervous as she felt.
“Stop it,” she told herself as soon as she was alone. Her stern words didn’t work. In fact, she leaned against the door with a dreamy sigh. Thanks to Grace, she felt pretty tonight, and that illusion was making her stupid.
This wasn’t a date. It was nothing more than two friends hanging out. If it were a date, he would’ve asked her out earlier, maybe even the day before. He wouldn’t have just come upon her on the street and asked if she wanted pizza. In fact, he wouldn’t have mentioned pizza at all. He’d take her to a restaurant. He’d try to impress her. This was nothing more than watching a TV show with a friend.
Her grin finally faded at that, because it was so damn familiar. She’d fallen for that mix-up a dozen times already. It was the same every time: guy asks her over to watch a movie or play video games, she gets excited and hopeful, and then…nothing. Worse than nothing, actually. Oftentimes he wanted to talk about problems with the girl he was really interested in. Or worse yet, he wanted to feel Merry out about one of her cute friends.
There was nothing worse than being felt out when you really wanted to be felt up. Nothing.
She almost changed into her normal look. She almost scrubbed off the makeup and shucked the jewelry. But what the hell. If she were just going to be a buddy, she could look cute while doing it.
So instead of changing anything, Merry checked her email and loaded the dishwasher and then added a tiny bit more lip gloss before crossing the hall to knock on his door.
He didn’t answer, so she knocked again, then worried he wasn’t ready yet. Maybe she had the time wrong. Maybe— The door opened. Shane might be ready, but she wasn’t. She hadn’t braced herself for the sight of him in just jeans and a black T-shirt. No hat, no boots, just bare feet and damp hair and over six feet of clean man in between. She was suddenly assaulted with the fictional memory of him in the shower, naked and aroused. Soapy water streaming down his chest, sneaking lower over his abdomen and then…
“Hi,” he said.
“Oh,” she answered.
Shane’s smile faltered but he stepped aside to let her in. “What kind of pizza do you like? There’s a pretty good local place.”
“Anything except peppers. Actually jalapeño peppers are fine.”
“Yeah? You like a little heat, huh?”
Her blushing face got even warmer. Apparently she did. Apparently she liked a lot of heat when it came to Shane Harcourt. God, she was turning into a creepy, perverted neighbor.
“Me, too,” he said, then called to order the pizza.
While he was on the phone, she took the chance to look around. He had more furniture than she and Grace did. A coffee table made out of a wide slab of polished wood. A beautiful old bookshelf made of something that looked like ancient pine. She walked over to examine the books, all of them worn paperbacks that looked like they’d been read a hundred times. Westerns, of course, but not very many. Most of them were thrillers and spy novels and biographies, with a few surprising choices mixed in: vampire sagas and historical novels. No sci-fi, but maybe she’d turn him tonight.
Merry took a step back and found herself flush against a very warm body. “Oh, shit,” she gasped, lurching away. She spun around so quickly that she had to reach out to balance herself on his arm. But she missed his arm and found her hand pressed to his chest. “I’m sorry,” she choked out and jerked her hand from its hot, solid resting place. “I didn’t… I’m not trying to molest you, I promise.”
His eyebrows flew up. “That’s a strange promise.”
“I know! I’m so sor
ry! I just don’t want you to think I think that we…that this… I know it’s not, all right? So don’t worry.”
“Not…what?”
“Anything!”
He was too close. She couldn’t back up without running into the bookshelf. But he was watching her so strangely and her heart tripped into a panicked beat. She slipped past him as quickly as she could and moved to the couch. “Let’s watch the show!”
He turned to stare at her for a long moment, and she knew she’d revealed too much. The cocktail she’d downed had combined with her natural awkwardness with disastrous results. She’d blurted out all the things she never should have said, and now he knew she was thinking them. The sudden, awful urge to confess that she’d indulged in a dirty fantasy about him hovered on her tongue, as if it wanted to escape and free her from the last of her secret guilt. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
She swallowed hard, forcing down the compulsion to confess. “I’ll sit over here,” she said instead, pointing at the far end of the couch.
He blinked slowly. Blinked again. Then nodded. “Okay. Sure. How about a beer?”
