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He’d probably been in shock, just as she was now, filled with lust that was shot through with horror. Even now, she wanted him. Badly.
Lauren cleared her throat. “I know this is awkward. We’ve known each other a long time. We
probably should have thought of that before picking each other up at a saloon.”
She heard his footsteps draw closer as she reached up to pluck a vase from a cabinet. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said.
“Yes.”
“A really good idea.”
Oh, God, his deep voice was so close now. Two more steps and he’d be pressed to her, his mouth at her neck. That was when she remembered that she was wearing a black silk robe. It came to only midthigh. He could open it with a flick of his fingers and touch all of her. He could have her just the way she wanted to be had.
Lauren spun to face him. “You shouldn’t have brought flowers.”
“It was no big deal. I—”
“No, I mean you shouldn’t have brought them. I’m not...” She waved a frantic hand. “Like that.”
“Like what?” He looked puzzled. Of course he was. His wife had probably been gaga over flowers. He’d probably bought them for her every week, and she’d loved them and had never forgotten to water them and had never killed them within forty-eight hours because she was ungrateful and unromantic and unfeminine and just plain un-.
“Jake,” she sighed, “last night was a mistake. I’m really not your type.”
He looked left and right as if he were trying to figure out whom she was talking about. “My type?”
“Yes. So let’s nip this in the bud before we make a bigger mistake.” Her gaze slipped involuntarily down his body. A bigger, harder mistake, dammit.
“Lauren, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I really haven’t dated much, so even I don’t know what my type might be.”
“I’m thinking it’s something along the lines of ‘nice girl.’”
He flinched and took a step back. “What?”
“You brought me flowers!” She punched a finger toward the bouquet. “Did last night seem romantic?”
He opened his mouth and then closed it with a snap.
She pushed on, feeling as if she were kicking a puppy. But she had to say it. She couldn’t fall for him. “I was looking to get laid. I got dressed up and I went out and I was looking for sex. That’s the kind of girl I am. I was on the prowl. I was a cougar. You just got caught up in it. It was a mistake.”
His jaw jumped with tension. “A cougar. So you’re saying I’m too old for you.”
“What? No!” Lauren looked around for her wineglass, before remembering it was all the way across the room. Desperate, she picked up the bottle. “Excuse me for a moment.” She tipped it up and took two gulps. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “Look at me. This is what I’m talking about.” She jiggled the bottle.
“Lauren—”
She rushed on before she lost all her nerve. “You’re a good guy, Jake. I can’t do this. Not with you.”
He took a deep breath, making her want to reach out and touch his broad chest. “Lauren, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”
She had to be blunt. She had to just say it. He deserved that, at least. He hadn’t even gotten an orgasm out of this disaster.
Lauren held up a hand and took one last swig of wine. As the warmth of the alcohol sank into her, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her pulse. “What I’m trying to say is... If I could just have sex with you and walk away, I would. Like, you have no idea how much I would. But we practically work together, and you’re friends with Steve, and even if it were only a one-night stand it would be so awkward, but I like you, Jake.”
For a moment, he still frowned. His jaw clenched again. Then he shook his head. “That’s not really a problem, Lauren. I like you, too. And I liked last night. We don’t need to decide everything right now. We could just date. Just see if this could be—”
“I’m nothing like Ruth!”
That brought confusion back to his face. And shock. And a little hurt. He took another step back.
