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Suddenly, Cate was scared. Scared of the invisible cord that drew ever tighter, binding her and Harry in an odd partnership. “When do you get your stitches out?” she asked.
“They’re the dissolving kind.”
“But the guy in the emergency room did mention you should check in with an orthopedist to get your knee examined.”
Harry frowned. “What are you trying to say, Cate?”
She managed not to wring her hands. Instead, she shoved them in her pockets and leaned against the wall. “If we went back to Atlanta Wednesday morning, you could see the doctor, and I might go to Jason’s and pack up my things. If we spent the night at your place, we could come back here on Thursday for the holiday weekend. We don’t want to be driving on Friday. The traffic will be nuts.”
Silence reigned after her nervous explanation. “You’re saying you want to go to Jason’s without me?” Harry said.
The complete lack of inflection in his question rattled her.
“It’s not that,” she said. “I was trying to be efficient.”
Actually, it wasexactlythat. The idea of being with Harry inside the apartment where she and Jason had lived together was stomach-tightening. It would be weird and uncomfortable and awful.
He stared at her. “It’s going to be hot as hell this week. You’ll need me to help load boxes. And besides, that little electric car won’t have enough room for all your stuff.”
“We can talk about it later,” she said.
Harry recognized her discomfort with the topic. His expression softened. “How about we go for a walk? Now that the sun is down, it won’t be bad.”
Cate shook her head slowly. “Not tonight. You shouldn’t overdo it with your hurt knee. And I have some emails to answer. I’ll see you at breakfast. We finally have real food now, so you can have more than a cereal bar.”
All the while she was explaining, she inched toward the doorway and the certainty of escape.
But Harry wasn’t going to tolerate her cowardice. He followed her. “Talk to me, Catie. What’s going on?”
“Nothing...” The word came out on an embarrassing squeak.
“Are you upset because I kissed you?”
She swallowed hard. “No. But I’m tired. I thought I’d go to bed early.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” he said. “Everything you think is written on your face.”
“That’s not true,” she whispered.
“Then why are you running away?”
Surely, she was imagining the flicker of vulnerability in his gaze. Harry might hurtherin the end. Not intentionally. But a man of his experience couldn’t possibly be affected by anything Cate might say or do.
She tried to clear the lump in her throat. Maybe it was time for honesty. “I don’t know what you want from me,” she said.
He ran his thumb from the top of her shoulder down to her wrist. “I think you do. But if it’s not whatyouwant, Cate, all you have to do is say so.”
“You’re talking about sex.”
His gaze narrowed. “Maybe. When the time is right. There’s no rush.”
But that was the problem. Cate wanted him now. She wanted him so much, she had started having dreams about him. Hot, carnal dreams.
Still, how could she jump headfirst into Harry’s bed without knowing the rules, the parameters? How could she ask about the future?
Wasn’t it obvious? Harry wanted to fool around. It was what guys like him did. Because Harry and Cate had both tacitly acknowledged the attraction between them, it made sense from his point of view to enjoy each other physically.
It was simple for some people. Too simple. Not many folks went into a one-night stand wondering if a sensual, seductive moment would lead to a relationship.
