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Which, all things considered, was just the wrong thing to want.
“I’ll dig the cars out.” There was the shuffling noise of him pulling on his boots. “We’ll be on the road before noon.”
Her stomach twisted. She had enough uncertainty and loose ends in her life without needing Sam to be one of them.
“Sam.” She got to her feet and turned to face him. “Just to reiterate, you don’t have anything to worry about. What happened in the blanket fort stays in the blanket fort.”
He yanked the laces of his boots, his expression shuttered. “I thought you were an open book.”
“I am.” She swallowed hard. “Unless I have a reason to keep a secret.”
“Seems to me the only secrets youhave a reasonto keep are the ones you’re ashamed of.”
A cloud descended on her. This was how he wanted it, then? A fateful weekend, a hot, intimate night, whispers in the dark…and it all disappeared in the blinding light of reality?
Then again, what else did she expect? Aside from having known from the start that Sam wasn’t a relationship kind of guy, she had a laundry list of things to work on for herself this year. A relationship—or, God forbid, anepic romance—wasn’t one of them.
At least…not with a man who’d made it clear he wanted to be alone.
“I’m not ashamed of what happened here,” she said. “Not in the least. I just don’t want you to think I expect anything more. We have very different ideas of relationships, and while I still think you need help with your romance plotline, I’m not about to try and change your mind about real-life love. I want you to know that.”
“Good.” He stood from the bench and folded his arms. His eyes were so opaque they looked almost black. “Thanks for the head’s-up.”
Brooke ran her hands over her thighs. She’d intended her statement to lighten the air between them. Instead, the tension thickened. “So we’ll just go back to being…um, acquaintances.”
“Fine.”
His abrupt agreement was a blow to her heart. She took a breath and reminded herself that they didn’t have to bedistantacquaintances anymore. They had a reason to keep seeing each other.
“I still want to help you with John and Patricia’s story.” She rubbed her hands together. “I can tell you about some of my favorite characters, and I think you’d really benefit from reading a few good romance novels so you can see how the authors structure the—”
“Actually, I’ve got it figured out.” He grabbed his parka and shoved his arms into the sleeves. “Thanks for your help, but I’m better off working alone.”
“Oh.” The weight pressed down harder on her heart. “Okay. So the trial period is over, then.”
“Yeah.” He zipped up his parka and turned. His boots rang out against the hardwood floor as he strode to the door. “It’s over.”
