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Twenty minutes later, Rylie’s wide-eyed gaze swept around the pool house, her jaw slack with shock.
“You look like you’re trying to catch flies,” Dustin teased.
Rylie snapped it closed, and shook her head slowly. “I thought your pool house would be…small.”
“It’s only two thousand square feet. My house is—”
“I saw the mansion; I don’t need to know the dimensions.”
Dustin clucked his tongue at her. “It’s rude to interrupt.”
“It’s also in poor taste to brag.” She slid her hand across the marble countertop in the kitchen. This home was gorgeous, modern, and way more than she could ever afford to rent. She wasn’t sophisticated or complicated; she liked simple décor with a homey, country feel.
This was like stepping into one of those million dollar homes on the street of dreams.
“Touché. I guess talking about the size of my houses might give the impression I’m making up for something.”
Rylie’s cheeks burned as she caught his meaning. “Do you always have to go there?”
Dustin chuckled. “Sorry, old habits die hard. Sexual innuendos seem to be ingrained into my personality.”
“Charming.”
“Women usually think so,” Dustin said, drawing an eye roll from Rylie. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Okay, well, let’s grab dinner and I’ll help you unload the truck.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I am, so no use arguing.”
Rylie wasn’t really planning on it. As awkward as it was to accept his help, she was emotionally drained and not looking forward to unloading her stuff alone.
“I’ll take your help,” she said with a smile.
“Good. Food first though.”
“Agreed.”
Dustin opened the sliding glass door for her, and they walked around the in-ground pool. The sun was still up at six in the evening, and so was the temperature. The blue water looked awfully inviting, but there was no way she was going to ask to use his pool. She already felt as though she was taking advantage of him.
He opened the back door of his house for her, and when his hand settled on her lower back, leading her into the dining room, she shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No, that’s crazy. It’s still a hundred degrees outside.”
“Yeah, but I keep the house at a cool sixty, so I figured maybe the change in temperature had gotten to you.”
“I’m fine,” she squeaked. She took a few quick steps and the warmth of his palm dropped away. She didn’t like the flash of disappointment that crept unbidden to the surface at the loss of his touch. Rylie didn’t want him or any man. She was going to swear off men indefinitely and focus on herself.
Rylie grimaced as she thought of her mother needing to focus on herself after she’d gotten sick.
I’m nothing like her. I don’t have a responsibility to a child and a loving husband.
They walked into the dining room to find the long redwood table set with plates, silverware, and stemware. A bottle of wine was in the middle of the table and all around it were platters of food, enough to feed a professional basketball team.
“Wow, does she do this for you every night?” Rylie asked.
“No, she usually makes me several dinners I can reheat easily, but when I mentioned I’d have company, I guess she assumed it was roman
