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Zoe blew a long sigh out through her nose. She'd told Ian she was going to take a quick shower and ducked into the guest room, reminding herself yet again that it made sense, much more sense, to stay here tonight than in some motel on the way back to Connecticut. They'd been on the road for two days now, and they both deserved a little rest and relaxation.
The only trouble was, she knew exactly how she wanted to unwind…
Which was, of course, the most ridiculous thing of all. It had hit her like a bolt from the blue, somewhere between buying that diamond necklace and spending tonight with his parents. Whenever she looked at Ian now, her pulse quickened and her hands shook—not with her usual surge of rage, but with something else. Something a whole lot more pleasurable.
Grabbing her pajamas, she held them tight and realized he hadn't been kidding about exactly how cold it got at night. If this was the state of the guest room, then maybe it wasn't finished being insulated yet. Maybe they'd simply have to snuggle together for warmth tonight…
She shook her head and stepped into the bathroom, turning on the spray of the elegant waterfall shower with a flick of the wrist. As she undressed, though, her thoughts again returned to Ian, and she ran her hands over her body, wondering what he'd think of it, of her… if he'd compare her to Quinn.
It was an unspoken understanding, of course, but that didn't make it any less of an understanding. Ever since they'd been young, she'd known that Ian loved Quinn, that he only had eyes for her. And if he slept with Zoe tonight, would it be because of what his mother had said today? They just looked so much alike?
She stepped into the shower and took another long, deep breath, allowing the water to sluice over her back and slick her hair.
It was stupid, thinking about sleeping with Ian like it was an actual prospect. They'd known each other forever, and as far as she could tell, she was just about the last woman on Earth he was interested in seeing. Except, of course, for the fact that he kept wanting to grab her hand that night in the casino.
And, lest she forget, Ian would fuck just about anything that moved.
She gave herself a quick scrub, mentally flicking through all the women she'd seen on Ian's arm through the years. He wasn't a complete playboy, maybe, but there had certainly been more than she could count on two hands, and the caliber of women…
Well, they weren't like her.
They were the kind of women who had standing appointments at salons and were used to the higher-class life. The life Zoe still couldn't manage to understand. Maybe it was simply that she'd spent so many years skimping and saving and scraping for everything she had, but everything that wasn't completely necessary felt like a waste, like a disservice to someone who needed her money more.
She finished rinsing herself, stepped from the shower feeling even more confused and conflicted than she'd felt before, and toweled off before slipping into her pajamas. Now that she was here, she'd have to find something to do with her night… preferably something that wasn't near Ian and his lean, chiseled muscles.
She shivered a little then stepped into the hallway to find Ian at the edge of the stairs, half dressed in a tank and sleep pants.
She gulped, all too aware of the way his biceps flexed when he turned to look at her. "Hey," she said.
"Hey." He speared a hand through his hair. "I was just about to head down and open a bottle of wine. Wanna split it with me over the fire pit?"
You, and wine, and a fire? Um, no thank you. My lady parts might freaking explode from the sexiness.
"After all, there's not much to do around here anyway. Come relax," he added then motioned for her to join him without bothering to look and see if she'd follow.
Which, of course, she did.
Because she was weak-willed and thinking with her body instead of her brain.
Dammit. There wasn't even a good excuse for her to run away and hide, either. She had no computer, no tablet, no books. She was on vacation from work because she'd thought she would have been house-sitting for Quinn. So that was that.
She just had to follow Ian and hope she didn't act like a complete idiot in the process. Which, judging by the pounding of her pulse in her ears at the sound of his voice, was going to be no small task.
"What kind of wine do you have?" she asked, skirting into the kitchen.
He pulled a bottle from the shelf above the microwave and brandished the label. "The finest Two Buck Chuck." He laughed. "I haven't been here since the season started, so I've only got my emergency wine."
"No, no. That's my favorite, actually. The cab?" She grinned, and he beamed back at her, nodding.
"That's the one.” He grabbed a corkscrew from a nearby drawer and handed it to her. "You wanna open that and pour? I'll start the fire."
She did as he asked, careful not to stare at his ass as he moved from the kitchen to the outdoor patio. Because that would have been wrong. And besides, it was hard to get a good look in those plaid sleep pants of his anyway.
Though she wouldn't know because she wasn't looking. Obviously.
Hands still shaking, she found the wine glasses in a cabinet beside the sink and poured then walked onto the patio just in time to see the fire ignite. It was early in the year, still, but on the edge of the property, just near the lake, she could see a few fireflies beginning to light up the night. She smiled at them, wondering what this place must look like in August.
No doubt it would light up like a Christmas tree, and Ian would be able to sit out here and watch it all, his fishing rod in hand and a cold beer at his side.
