A Husband of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #2)(65)
Author: Brenda Novak

She tried not to smile, not to relinquish any more of her heart, but it was too late. She had no defenses left. She was hopelessly and irrevocably in love, and she had no idea whether it would turn out to be a good thing. She was gambling on the one man who had no reason to even like her….

“Don’t you think this is kind of funny?” she asked.

“What?”

“The fact that we’re lying here naked together after all we’ve been through. I’m the one who told everyone in school that your penis was three inches long, remember?”

He grinned. “Yeah, but that was just foreplay.”

“What about tomorrow?” she asked.

“What about it?”

“What happens then?”

“Tomorrow I’m going to figure out a way to convince you to make me breakfast—naked,” he said. “But we’ve got a few hours to work up an appetite, and I plan to make the most of every minute.” Scooping her closer, he rolled on top of her, then kissed her gently. “You ready to tell me you love me yet?” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Hell, no,” she said, even though her heart and her mind were screaming just the opposite.

He chuckled. “That’s too bad. I guess it’s going to take a little more convincing.”

“I won’t crack,” she insisted.

He licked one taut nipple. “We’ll see what you have to say in five minutes.”

REBECCA SAT at his kitchen table, wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts, her hair an unruly mess, her lips still swollen from his kisses, and Josh thought, “That’s the way I like her best.” Any makeup she’d had on last night was long gone, but Josh didn’t think she needed makeup—not with the natural beauty of her clear green eyes. Or maybe it was the quick-changing expressions on her face that appealed to him and not any particular feature. She could say more with one glance than most women could say in a fifteen-minute monologue.

He tried to keep his gaze from straying to her long, slender legs, propped up on the chair next to her, so he wouldn’t burn himself at the stove, but it wasn’t easy. He’d made love to her several times during the night—and still felt like he wanted to drag her back to his bedroom. He smiled as he remembered thinking he could get her out of his system. Now he knew what twisted logic that really was.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Nothing.” The bacon he was cooking popped. He jerked his hand away to avoid being spattered by the grease. “Breakfast is almost ready. Want some more orange juice?”

She shook her head.

He flipped the pancakes on the griddle. “I hope you’re hungry. I’ve got enough food here for ten people.”

She didn’t answer.

Wondering why she’d suddenly grown so quiet, he glanced over to see her staring out the window, a brooding expression clouding her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Come on, Beck. You can’t lie to me. What’s going on?”

She folded her arms and scowled at him. “You always took Mary out for breakfast.”

He raised his brows. “So?”

“We’re eating in.”

He leaned one hip against the counter, still holding the fork he was using to turn the bacon. “And…”

Her eyes lowered to her empty plate, and she began toying with her napkin. “You obviously didn’t mind being seen with Mary.”

“I don’t mind being seen with you, either.”

“Then why did you want to have breakfast here, instead of going to the diner?”

He took the bacon off the stove so it wouldn’t burn. “First of all, you’re drawing some pretty major conclusions from one day. That’s hardly a fair sample. Second, I thought it’d be more fun to make you breakfast. Granted, I’m not a very good cook, but breakfast is one meal I can manage. Then you wouldn’t have to get dressed,” he added, hoping to tease her out of her sullen mood.

It didn’t work. “You didn’t mind it when Mary got dressed?”

“No.”

“Because you wanted to take her out to the diner, where there’d be other people.”

“No.”

“Then why?”

He sighed, not particularly anxious to analyze his actions. Taking Mary out to breakfast put a decisive end to their time together and allowed him to get to work. “Because I couldn’t see her lounging around my kitchen,” he admitted.

“Why couldn’t you?”

He forked the bacon onto a paper towel-covered plate and poured most of the grease into a jar. Then he broke a couple of eggs into the pan, which he put back on the burner. “I don’t know. I think I was afraid she’d get too comfortable.”

Rebecca studied him. “I’m lounging around your kitchen,” she pointed out. “I’m even wearing your clothes.”

“I know,” he said. “And the crazy thing is, I like it.”

WHEN REBECCA RETURNED home shortly after ten o’clock, she found Hatty’s old Buick gone and the house empty. Which was a relief. Now she didn’t have to answer any awkward questions about staying out all night. And without anyone to waylay her, she was able to shower, change and dash to the salon in time for her eleven o’clock perm with Mrs. Londonberry.

“You’re sure quiet today,” Mrs. Londonberry said as Rebecca put the rods in her hair. “You feeling okay, dear?”

“Fine,” Rebecca said. In fact, she’d never been better, or had more pleasant memories to mull over. But she was afraid that stating her feelings too emphatically would draw unwanted attention. This relationship between her and Josh was still new enough that she wasn’t really sure whether or not she could trust it.

“You look really happy,” Ashleigh said, kneeling in front of the shelves while restocking the hair care products. With Rebecca still working at the salon, it was taking Ashleigh longer to establish a clientele than it would have otherwise. But she seemed content to clean, organize and answer the phone. And Erma had come to depend on the extra help.

Mona paused while sterilizing her nail instruments at the utility sink. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen you smile this much since—Hey, don’t tell me you and Buddy are back together!”

“No,” Rebecca said quickly, keeping her attention on Mrs. Londonberry’s iron-gray hair.