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The moment was broken.
“You ask too many questions.”
“I just want to know you,” she shot back. “Why are you making that so hard?”
“We didn’t even know one another when we woke up this morning,” I pointed out.
“And now I’m in your backyard, I’ve eaten dinner with you and your son, I’m staying in your trailer. We’re not strangers.”
But we’re not lovers, I thought.
Had I fallen for another crazy woman, one who wanted to split me open and pour my secrets out, to sort through them like mahjong tiles, looking for the prettiest pieces?
Just my fat fucking luck.
She couldn’t be worse than the last, of course — Satan himself couldn’t reach that threshold — but that didn’t mean she was safe. Not for me, but more importantly, not for my son. Anybody who asked this much had an agenda, right? I’d learned that the hard way.
I had a good son, a good life, both of which I’d fought to achieve. Would I break my vow of celibacy just for this girl?
No. No, I would not. Henry came first. And Phoebe was getting too close, in every sense of the word.
“Maybe tonight isn’t such a good night for star-watching after all,” I said, thrusting myself up into a kneeling position.
Phoebe knew we weren’t really talking about the stars. “I can see them so clearly, though.”
She could see me.
I stood up, and headed to the door, back into the sanctum of this small, fragile life I’d crafted for myself and my son.
Phoebe called after me, “What am I supposed to do for the next three days?”
I shrugged, bitterness flooding my body. I’d never be able to do anything as normal as woo a girl.
“Enjoy Rough and Ready,” I said through clenched teeth. Then, ever the gentleman, I added, “You can get out through the side gate, ‘round the back of the house. Good night, Phoebe.”
With that, I slid open the glass door, and went inside, returning to safety.
CHAPTER 11
Phoebe
OKAY, THAT was totally bullshit, right?!
I was like so close to getting Carter to open up, to be a little honest with me, and then poof — he disappears.
Listen, normally I wouldn’t push that hard. I’m not an unsociable monster with a penchant for making people miserable. I just wanted to know that, before I kissed those scrumptious lips, no woman was gonna come racing out of the woodwork to browbeat me and blame me for the downfall of her marriage.
Is that so much to ask?
You have to know something about someone before you kiss them. Or, maybe that’s not a hard and fast rule for everyone, but it is for me. I’ve had bad experiences. And I didn’t want to repeat that, especially to the tune of being stranded and emotionally bruised for four days while I waited for this car.
Those perfect lips had been right next to me. If I’d moved an inch in, we would’ve been kissing. Instead, I was alone on a picnic blanket in the middle of Rough and Ready. Life sure is a bitch.
I stood up from the blanket, dusting off my back and thighs. There was dirt between my legs when there could’ve been Carter’s cock. I was feeling majorly cheated.
In truth, I’d screwed myself over. I should’ve anticipated Carter getting all defensive and tight-lipped. That was his whole gig. But then, aren’t I allowed to have needs as well? Sure, it was — or would’ve been — just a one-night stand. Even then, I was entitled to know a thing or two. Like, for instance, what the situation was with Henry’s mom. How had I become so attracted to a man who wouldn’t tell me diddly-squat? Me, the most wide-open book in the world, who loved engaging, talking out feelings, the whole nine yards! The irony!
There were just too many secrets. When those start to accumulate, then it’s hard to concentrate on the sex. Good sex is all about openness, communication. How could we have any fun if I couldn’t trust him to talk about his feelings?
And besides… if I was being really honest with myself, I knew that a part of me — I can’t believe I’m admitting this — a part of me wanted, well, more. Carter wasn’t a one-night stand guy. He was a ride-into-the-sunset kind of guy. He was long-term. I even got along swimmingly with Henry.
To be frank, he was the sort of man I pictured myself settling down with. He was #hubbymaterial. Hot, kind, polite, loving beyond all belief. Could I have sex with him just once and then forget about those cheekbones and dark eyes? I didn’t know if I was that strong, that casual.
These were too many questions, each of them bigger than the last. I’d crashed in Rough and Ready that morning, and suddenly I was thinking about marriage. How had my life been turned upside down so fast?!
