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In a moment of red-hot desire, I wanted to lick every last drop off her skin to show her that Richard was wrong. Make her moan. Show her the effect she had on me with no effort at all.
I wanted her.
No matter how much I shouldn’t.
I was about to blurt out that Richard couldn’t be more bloody wrong when she squinted at my face.
“What? You look so disgusted. Oh god, do I have something on my face?” She pulled down the sun visor and used the mirror to check her face.
“No, it’s nothing. You’re fine,” I muttered, closing her car door.
I tried to think as many unsexy thoughts as possible—when Grandad Cec had a weeping sore on his leg, crippling debt on the farm, burying dead sheep. I let out a breath and sighed, adjusting myself yet again.Success.Those kinds of thoughts would end a hard-on every time. I walked around to my side and got in.
We drove through town in silence, and then I took the turn off towards Turner’s Creek Road.
“I missed you.” Rosie’s outburst shattered the silence.
I barked out a noise in surprise and almost veered off the road.
“Tom, eyes on the road!” Rosie belched as I steered back on course. “God, motion sickness.”
“Are you going to puke?”
She missed me? What the heck did that mean?
Rosie blinked several times, her unseeing gaze fixed out the windscreen. “No, I’m good,” she said in a small voice.
She’s drunk and doesn’t know what she is saying. Which means I can’t trust anything she’s saying other than Richard is a prick, and she’s possibly about to hurl.
“I missed you at uni,” Rosie mumbled. “I was looking forward to seeing you on campus and talking about study and ideas.”
I shot her a side glance. Her eyes were closed, and her head was resting against the window. The glow of the headlights and the dash gave her a futuristic look. She looked badass, and sad, and beautiful.
I let out a shuddering breath. “For what it’s worth, so did I.”
“Will you talk to me now? While we’re going home?”
Rosie didn’t sound drunk anymore. She sounded not only sad but thoughtful.
“Um, sure. Okay.” I licked my lips and shrugged. “Uni was okay. I mean, I didn’t like being in the city that much, so I transferred to their agricultural college campus after my first year. I did a minor in winemaking. Not enough to become a winemaker, though. I really enjoyed the chemistry behind the winemaking process.”
Rosie managed a small smile. “You always did like chem at high school.”
I smiled too. “Very true.” I slowed for a wallaby hopping across the road. “Most of my studies were on soil health during drought conditions. That, and a huge amount of cost accounting for agricultural business. Can’t say I loved it, but my grades are good. Just four more subjects to go.”
“You were also about matching the science to the money.”
“Or, at least, showing how good science was worth the cost,” I replied, meeting her gaze.
Rosie patted my leg. “Yes! That!”
She took her hand away and the warmth of her hand lingered on my thigh. Luckily, she was looking out the window, oblivious to my arousal yet again. I took a deep breath and for a moment, it felt like before everything went bad—talking about ideas, what we were learning, the touching.
Shit.What did this mean?
Nothing.She’s drunk and won’t remember this conversation and when she wakes up, we will be back at war.
Maybe I didn’t want a war. Maybe I didn’t hate her at all.
