Discovering You. Brenda Novak

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      When India glanced over, he could tell she’d noticed the change in his tone. That glance was filled with uncertainty, and maybe a tinge of regret. She understood that he’d disengaged; he could see it in her face. It surprised him that she didn’t seem completely convinced she wanted that. But what else could he do? She was the one who’d thrown up barriers.

      “You’re quiet,” she said at length.

      Now that he no longer had any romantic interest to distract him from his injuries, he discovered that his leg, his mouth, his hands—almost every part of his body—hurt like hell. He needed to take a shower, swallow some pain pills and fall into bed. “It’s late. I’m not in the best shape. And there’s not much to say.”

      “I may not be open to a relationship. I’m still in love with Charlie. I hope we can be friends, though.”

      That was direct, but he’d been direct with her. He preferred open communication, didn’t see any reason to play games. “Of course.”

      “I’m sincere. I could use a friend.”

      He shrugged. “Sure, we’ll be friends and neighbors.”

      That must’ve sounded trite, because she frowned, apparently not pleased by his response.

      Bed, he told himself. He needed sleep. This woman was sending him mixed signals. She said she was still in love with her late husband and yet she kept looking at him as if...well, as if she liked what she saw. How was he supposed to react to that if she wouldn’t give him a chance?

      As soon as she pulled into his drive, he reached for the door handle.

      “Rod?”

      When he looked back, she seemed about to speak.

      “Yes?” he prompted.

      She pressed her thumbnails into the padded steering wheel. “Maybe if...if you’re not too tired, you should come over to my place.”

      “Right now?”

      When she raised her eyes, she seemed nervous—but she nodded.

      “What for?” he asked.

      She kept making those indentations in her steering wheel. “Well, I’ve got some salve and bandages. I could help get the dirt and gravel out of your leg.”

      Except she’d just told him she wasn’t interested. What the hell? “It’s okay, I’ll manage.”

      She caught his arm. “You could—” her voice fell to a whisper “—shower at my place.”

      He stared down at her pale hand against his darker skin. “I thought you didn’t want to be with me.”

      Releasing his arm, she looked away. “I never said that.”

      “You shut me down. Immediately. I let you know I was interested, that I wanted to take you out, and got a no.”

      She went back to making those marks in the steering wheel. “Because I’m not available for a relationship. I think it’s important to be honest about that up front.”

      “So what’s this about?” He peered at her a little more closely. “Sex?”

      Her nails dug deeper. “No! I just thought...maybe we could get to know each other a little better.”

      “Then this isn’t about sex. You want me to shower at your place...as a friend? For company or something?”

      “Sort of. I guess we could...talk.”

      They’d been talking. He didn’t believe that was what she had in mind. But whatever she was asking for wasn’t easy for her to put into words. “You’re missing your husband,” he ventured.

      “Of course.”

      “The way he touched you.”

      She briefly closed her eyes. “Yes.”

      “And you haven’t been with anyone since.”

      Her face flushed. If he could see her cheeks in the light, he suspected they’d match her hair. “Right.”

      He felt his breath seep out, hadn’t even known he was holding it. “Then you do want to fuck me.”

      When she blanched, he regretted stating it so baldly. But he didn’t want to wind up at her house and have her bail on him. This night had been bad enough.

      “It doesn’t have to go that far,” she said.

      “You just want to make out?”

      “I’m...open to ideas. I guess with Cassia gone, it felt like a good opportunity to...” Finally, she glanced up—and then she seemed to lose her train of thought because she stopped talking again.

      “Be with a man,” he filled in. Did that put it nicely enough?

      She slid her bracelets up her arm, something she’d been doing the whole drive. “If...if you’re interested. But you’re injured and...I’m basically a stranger to you, so...I’ll understand if you’re not up for that kind of...encounter.”

      “I’m trying to get this straight. You won’t let me take you to dinner. But you’ll let me take off your clothes?”

      She would no longer look at him. “I know, that sounds crazy,” she said with an awkward laugh. “I’m not thinking straight. You can go.”

      “This back and forth is confusing,” he told her. “I’ve been getting conflicting signals since I got in your car. So why don’t you tell me exactly what you’re after?”

      Her eyes widened. “You liked the dress,” she said helplessly, as if she couldn’t frame it any more clearly than that.

      He chuckled at her lame attempt. “I like what’s in the dress, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

      She said nothing. Staring straight ahead, at his house, she nibbled at her bottom lip.

      “Look at me,” he said and waited for her to comply. “Are you really committed to going to bed with a man you’ve barely met? Have you ever done that before?”

      “No. I’ve been with some rather...unsavory characters, but I always knew them before...you know.”

      “And that means...”

      “It wouldn’t be a good idea.”

      “That’s a no,” he said. “Okay. I’m glad I clarified. Because if I’d had to guess, I would’ve gone the other way.”

      He started to get out, but she caught his arm again, and this time when he looked back, she gripped her forehead with her free hand and squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes. It’s a yes.”

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