Now he sat outside the tiny, sky-blue bungalow, listening to the rain beat against the roof of his car. She was inside, he knew. The skillet car was in the driveway. A reluctant smile curved his mouth as he looked at the ridiculous thing. Only Rose would drive that car. And only Rose could have turned him inside out as she had.
For days, all he’d been able to do was think about her. He saw her in his sleep. Caught traces of her scent in his kitchen and every time he lay down on his bed, he wanted to reach out and find her there. He’d actually come to care about Rose.
Which told him it was time to end this.
His plan had worked fine, so it was done. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. Wasn’t the marrying kind and if he was, he sure as hell wouldn’t be marrying into Dave Clancy’s family. So there was no point in leaving things between he and Rose up in the air. It was time to cut and run.
If it turned out she was pregnant, he’d worry about it then.
Getting out of the car, he walked slowly through the driving rain, his gaze fixed on the windows where lamplight played behind sheer curtains. Before he made it to the front porch, the door opened and Rose was standing on the threshold, watching him.
Everything in him eased as his gaze moved over her. Her blond hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore faded blue jeans and a scoop-necked red blouse that displayed just the tops of her full br**sts. Her eyes were guarded and she had such a tight grip on the door that her knuckles were white.
“Lucas.”
“Hi.”
“You’re soaked.”
“What?” He glanced up at the sky as if surprised to find himself getting wet. “Yeah. Guess I am.”
She stepped back, farther into the house. “You want to come in?”
He nodded and took the steps in one long stride. Then he was brushing past her, his upper arm sliding across her br**sts as he walked into her house. The jolt of heat from that minor touch of their bodies stayed with him as he peeled off his jacket and handed it to her. She hung it on a hook and then stood there, staring up at him. Waiting.
Everything in him wanted to grab her. To forget about his plan. To forget about Dave and revenge and anything else that wasn’t as real as she was. But that wasn’t why he was here.
He followed after her, not much caring for the stiff formality that was suddenly between them. She led him down a short hall into the smallest living room he’d ever seen.
Stepping into that room, he felt like Gulliver. Everything was too small for him. The couch, the chairs, the tables. The walls were covered in framed posters and a few family photos and the scent of something amazing was coming from the kitchen.
It was warm and cozy and he felt like the intruder he was. There was no welcome for him here. Clearly, he didn’t belong and judging from the chill of her reception, he wouldn’t be staying long, either. The sting of that thought vanished when he told himself that was how he wanted it, anyway.
When Rose turned to look at him, her eyes were dry, but there were shadows in those blue depths that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
“Why are you here, Lucas?”
Good question. He’d come to say goodbye, but now all he wanted to do was reach for her. He fisted his hands at his sides to keep from giving in to that urge.
Lucas looked at her, and, for the first time, noticed that she appeared to be nervous. Uneasy. Hell, maybe the last few days had been hard on her, too. They’d left too many things in the air that night. Too many things unsaid. And there was still a major question hanging over both of their heads. No wonder she looked as ragged as he felt.
She’d probably be as grateful as he would to have the unfinished business between them straightened up. To make a clean break. “Look, I only came to say that I won’t be seeing you again.”
“Is that right?”
Not a flicker of emotion showed on her features, and Rose, he had already learned, wasn’t a woman to hide from what she was feeling. Her laughter was always genuine and her anger just as up-front and easily recognizable. But right now, she looked…empty. As if she’d been drained of all emotion and left to deal with a hollow sensation inside, like the one he’d been carrying around in his chest the last few days.
He frowned, not caring for that image, but he kept talking, wanting to make himself clear. He had to make her understand that whatever there had been between them was now over. And maybe then, they could both just put the past couple of weeks behind them. “I won’t be needing any more cooking lessons, either.”
“I see.”
His scowl went deeper. Damn it, didn’t she feel a thing? He was having a hard time saying this, the least she could do was look as though it mattered to her. “It’s nothing against you, Rose. I just don’t see how anything good can come from what’s between us.”
“Right. Of course not.”
Again, her words were flat, her eyes cool and distant.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he blurted out, wondering where the woman he knew had gone. This woman—detached, aloof—was someone he didn’t even recognize. Reaching out to her, he went to grab her shoulders, but she took a hasty step to the side, avoiding his touch. “Rose, what’s going on?”
“You tell me,” she said quietly, her gaze locked with his. “The reason you won’t be seeing me again…is it because my brother stole from you?”
Stunned, Lucas felt her words like a blow to the chest. How… He stared at her, hardly able to process this. The only way she could have found out that information was from her brother. “Dave told you?”
“So it’s true,” she whispered, shifting her gaze from his as if she just couldn’t look at him any longer. Scraping her hands up and down her arms, she added, “Yes. Dave told me.”
This he hadn’t expected. Who knew that Dave would finally come clean? After two years of keeping his silence, what had pushed him into a confession? To Rose, of all people? And if her brother and she had been talking, did that mean that Dave knew about Lucas and Rose?
Grinding his teeth against the anger and frustration pumping through him, he asked, “Did you tell your brother about us?”
“Why?” she asked, now wrapping her arms around her middle as if needing something to hold on to, even if it was only herself. “Was that a secret, too?”
He tried not to hear the pain she was finally allowing to show in her voice. He still had to know, so he asked again. “Did you tell him?”