Luck of the Draw (12 page)

She pulled her hands away. “You are so conceited.”

“Hey. I said both of us!”

And just like that, they were laughing and she knew that part of the conversation was over. Still, there was so much more she wanted to know. Want or need, she didn’t know, but wasn’t sure it mattered at this point.

He looked over at her and she could see it in his eyes. The desire. He might be conceited, but he did think she was beautiful too. Lord knew he was.

Breck’s hand left Ace and found her face. She should pull away, but she didn’t. She just felt. Let him touch her and closed her eyes, trying to cement to memory the way he looked at her. He’d probably given the same one to hundreds of other women. It didn’t mean anything real. She knew that, but she wanted to savor it anyway.

When Rowan opened her eyes, Breck was leaning in closer…so close. Oh God, he was going to kiss her. And she planned to let him. She wasn’t strong enough to stop him.

Right before his lips brushed hers, thunder slammed again. It was just the distraction Rowan needed to jerk back. But still, Breck didn’t let go. He wasn’t getting closer to her any longer and she knew the moment was over.

“Wh-Why don’t you do relationships, Breck?” she whispered before she lost her nerve. “There has to be a reason.”

Another sigh from him as he lowered his hand. “You don’t want to hear my sob story.”

“I do. I want to know.”

Breck paused, a hard look on his face. “She was a liar. I thought—hell, I thought we were in love, but it was all a lie.”

Rowan sucked in a breath. It wasn’t like he’d given her much, but she knew it still wasn’t easy for him.

And she was a liar too.

“Let’s talk about something else, Houdini. Play cards with me. I’ll show you a few other things. You need to work on your poker face. You bite your lip when you don’t have a good hand.”

She hoped her voice came out steady—hoped he couldn’t tell that her thoughts were drifting in space, a million miles away. “You could tell that just by the couple hands we played?”

He nodded. “You play with your cards close to your chest. I used to do that too.”

“How did you stop?” she said breathlessly. She wasn’t sure if they were talking about cards anymore.

“I bluff. I win some and I lose some, but I’m always in control of my hand. I know when to fold and when to let the hand play out.”

No, they definitely weren’t talking about poker anymore.

Chapter Twelve

Breck sat in an old, rickety folding chair by the lake, Rowan beside him. Both had their fishing poles in the water. She was right—this time, it was relaxing. He could imagine coming out here to think like she did, like they were both probably doing now. He risked a glance at her. Her jaw wasn’t set. Her body wasn’t tight. She looked just as at ease as he felt.

It was so different than the last time they’d come fishing. She’d even been the one to suggest they should go this time, something he hadn’t expected. They’d been out here for hours, quiet. There was something about sitting in silence with another person, with
her
that felt different…felt special.

They’d spent yesterday, the day after the storm, apart. She had some business to take care of for the bed and breakfast and he’d just needed to try and clear his head.

It hadn’t worked. The truth of the matter was, the woman was starting to mean something to him and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about it. He knew what the smart thing was—to say good-bye, but he’d never been real good at doing what he should. He enjoyed that little thrill of adventure too much. That jolt he got when bending the rules.

He felt like he was playing a losing hand, though. If he decided to go for it with Rowan, if she didn’t end up smacking the hell out of him, that was, he knew himself well enough to know he couldn’t really put all his cards on the table. He’d told her she held them close to her chest, which was true. It was something he still did. Couldn’t seem to stop himself and didn’t see how they had any real chance anyway. Their lives were too different.

But then if he didn’t, he’d probably drive himself crazy, because damn it, there was something about the woman that made him wild. The way her curls bounced or how her breath had hitched when he almost kissed her the other night.

The care she showed for other people and that fiery spirit that he hoped she never tamed.

Breck readjusted himself in the seat. Yes. He was definitely starting to have it bad for this woman.

“What’s wrong?” Rowan asked.

“Nothing.”
Everything
.

“You’re frowning.”

Her nose wrinkled when he looked at her. “What? You’re Sherlock now? I thought you liked thinking when you went fishing?” He was being surly and he knew it, but he wasn’t used to not having what he wanted. Probably because he hadn’t wanted anything—at least not anything that really mattered—in a long time.

“Excuse me. I was just trying to be friendly.”

Shit. Now he felt bad. Breck playfully pushed her chair. “Don’t be mad, Houdini. Want me to give you one of my smiles? I’ll do that for you. It’s a hardship, but—”

Rowan turned and pushed his chair, but much harder than he had hers. The stupid thing broke and before he knew it, his ass hit the ground. He tried to be mad. Wanted to, but he couldn’t make it happen so instead he let out a laugh. Rowan joined him too, sitting all comfortable in her chair, a knit beanie on her head. It shouldn’t be so sexy, but it was.

“Have a nice trip?” she teased.

Oh. She thought that was funny, did she? Breck grabbed the arm of her chair and tilted it over. It caught her off guard so she started to tumble out. He’d catch her. He knew it, so he let her keep going—or wanted her to keep going so he’d feel her in his lap.

And down she went. Right where he wanted her. She was so soft and he couldn’t help but remember how it felt to explore her with his hands…his mouth. How goose bumps pebbled on her skin which he touched her. The way her breath felt warm on his neck. They’d had fun that night, but it had been more than that. He’d known it when he met her and he knew it now, even if he didn’t like to admit it.

So instead of letting himself think about it, Breck leaned forward. The whole time he knew how stupid it was, but frankly, he didn’t care. He’d deal with the consequences later. And he wouldn’t let something like thunder stop him this time.

He let his hand cup her cheek and kept going. A quiet whimper escaped the back of her throat, which only urged him on more.

Closer. Breck whispered his lips against her mouth softly. So very softly so she could let him know if she didn’t want this. Once, twice, he gave her two little closed-mouth kisses on the corner of her lip. He let his tongue sneak out, ready to take it to the next level when she muttered, “Wait?”

Shit. “Wait?” he asked to be sure.

“Yes.”

Breck continued to hold her on his lap and leaned his forehead against hers. “Why?” He knew the answer before he asked the question.

Rowan didn’t move. Didn’t pull away. Her lips were only inches from his as they sat there. “A million reasons. Vegas, the fact that you said you want nothing to do with women, and…stuff.”

She was right. Damn it, he knew she was right, but he didn’t want her to be. For the first time since he was a dumb, snot-nosed eighteen-year-old kid he wished there weren’t those obstacles between him and a woman. Still, he found himself saying, “It’s just a kiss.”

“It wouldn’t stop there and both of us know that, Breck.” They hadn’t moved at all, their heads still together, him sitting on the wet earth.

“Would that be so bad?” Another question he knew the answer to.

Rowan sighed. “Maybe…if things were different. I want a best friend, Breck. Someone who I can tell anything to, who I love and who actually loves me too. You don’t want ties. You said so. You’re not settled in one place, and you don’t trust women. I’m not saying you owe me any answers, but you don’t even trust me enough to tell me about whoever it was that hurt you in the past.”

Everything she said hit another nail in his coffin. Through his chest. Because her words couldn’t be truer. Even if for the first time he didn’t want them to be, they were.

“Can you honestly tell me any of those things have changed? If you could, I—”

“I can’t.” He couldn’t even let her finish. He had this roadblock inside him and he didn’t know how to tear the damn thing down. “Maybe…but not yet.” Jesus, that sounded so weak, but she deserved honesty. He didn’t know if he could get where they needed to be, but he considered trying.

She cocked her head as though that surprised her. Her green eyes looked at him—through him, and damned if he didn’t want to tell her he could do it right now.

“That’s more than I expected,” she whispered, sounding sadder than before. “We need to talk, Breck. There’s… Shit, there’s something I need to—”

It was like someone hit a button in the sky and rain poured down on them with no warning. It wasn’t a gentle sprinkle, either, but a hard rain, like having bucket after bucket dumped on them.

“Damn it!” Breck scrambled to his feet, helping Rowan along the way. “It rains too much here!” That quickly, they were both soaked to the bone. The hair that stuck out from under her cap stuck to her face and neck. She looked like a drowned rat…

And he wanted to kiss her again.

In the middle of the rain storm, Rowan laughed. “It’s October in Washington. What do you expect?”

Instead he told her, “Run to the truck. I’ll pick everything up and meet you there.”

But like he knew she would, she shook her head and they hurriedly packed everything up before running to the truck—soaking wet, but together.

…

Rowan was freezing. The heat was up full blast as the truck bumped around in puddles on their way home. Well,
her
home. Not Breck’s.

Rowan couldn’t concentrate on any of it. All she could think of was the fact that he’d almost kissed her again. That this time his lips had brushed hers and it was so sweet—and so very different than their one night together in Las Vegas.

She wanted him to do it again. Didn’t want him to stop this time. If she were honest, she’d admit she wanted more than that, and she didn’t just mean sexually either.

She cared about Breck Wilder. He’d become a friend. A good friend, and if things were different, she’d bet they could be more—even if it were only temporary.

Her situation didn’t allow for that though. They already had too much going on between them to add anything more to it. Like the fact that he didn’t know part of him grew inside her and she was keeping it from him.

Not anymore. She’d tell him. She had to.

No matter what happened, Breck deserved to know, and she’d make herself tell him.

“When I first came to Shamrock Falls I thought I missed the Washington rain, but now I’m not so sure!” he teased. Rowan tried to laugh because she knew she should, but it was a struggle.

Liar, liar, liar
was all she could think.

“I actually like it though. It’s refreshing. Helps a little if you’re better prepared for it.” He kept going as though he didn’t know she was practically having a nervous breakdown over here.

The second they pulled into the driveway, she knew something was wrong. “Oh no! I think the basement window broke!” She hardly stopped the truck before jumping out. It was automatic. She didn’t even think about it. This was her home and her livelihood. And she always took care of what was hers.

Rowan ran into the house and toward the basement stairs. Ace, who she’d said could be free in the house, ran in the opposite direction. The place was flooded in about a foot of water. Rowan wanted to cry; panic made her pulse jump. She made it down one step when she felt a hand grab her arm.

“It’s not safe to go running down there, Houdini. The water’s rising fast.”

Worry spiked inside her. “I have important stuff in the basement, Breck. Memories.” That everyone left behind for her. Family things, all stacked in boxes.

“Sweetheart—”

“It’s important.”

Breck cursed. “Do not go down there yet, okay? Let me see what I can do. Promise me.” Her heart beat like crazy. That basement was full of her past. The things she wanted to share with her baby one day.

“I’m not playing around here.”

“Okay. I won’t. Just…” Just what, she didn’t know. Breck leaned forward and kissed her nose.

“Stay here.”

Rowan stood at the top of the stairs as she watched the water rise. It shouldn’t be this big a deal. She knew that, but it still took everything inside her to listen to Breck and stay where she was. The boxes down there made her feel connected to her family. Rowan gripped the railing, close to tears. Her heart actually ached.

Pounding started on the outside of the house. Rowan looked down into the basement to see that Breck had put a board over the window and the water had stopped pouring inside. There was still a slow trickle, but it was better than it had been. She heard more noise. More banging. He had to be soaking wet out there, which made guilt mix with her frantic worry.

A few minutes later a sopping Breck walked inside. Water dripped all over the floor. His clothes were stuck to his body, hair plastered to his head. Droplets leaked off him—even from the tip of his nose and eyelashes.

He was beautiful.

“It’s not a permanent fix, but it’ll do for now. We need to get that taken care of ASAP though.”

All Rowan could do was nod. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. Go upstairs and get dry.”

“What about you?”

“I need to move some things.”

“None of your magic tricks today, Houdini. I’ll help.”

He slipped past her and down the stairs. It didn’t take long with the two of them working together. Breck wouldn’t let her lift anything too big, which she agreed to because it probably wasn’t safe for the baby anyway. They worked together getting her boxes to high ground.

It was a partnership, the two of them. Breck testing and giving her light boxes and then carrying the heavy ones up himself.

It reminded her of how Sidney and Kade would be.

The thought made her heart drop. Or explode, she wasn’t sure which. Out of all people, how could she let herself want this with the one person who wouldn’t have it in him to reciprocate? Not to mention, he would probably end up hating her when he found out she’d been lying to him for the past month.

Tears sprang to her eyes. What had she done?

“Hey. What’s wrong? I think we got to this stuff in time. It’ll be okay.”

That made her want to cry harder. He was being so
incredibly
sweet to her and she didn’t know what any of it meant. Was it just the way he was? Or was it because he was starting to feel some of the same things for her that she felt for him? She didn’t know what she wanted it to mean. All she knew was she needed to make herself open her mouth and tell him the truth, but each time she tried, it snapped closed again.

If she told him, she could lose him. Rowan didn’t know when it happened, but it had become one of her biggest fears.

“You’re shivering. Come on, we’re done here. You need to go upstairs and get into some dry clothes.”

She shook him off. “It’s okay… I can do it. Thanks anyway. I’m not feeling too well. I’m probably going to lie down for the night.” She’d been letting Breck take care of her, but it was time to take care of herself. Especially since she’d soon be taking care of someone else, all on her own. With only herself to blame.

His forehead wrinkled, but he said, “Okay. You hungry?”

“No, no. Just tired. I’ll see you tomorrow okay? We’ll talk tomorrow. Thanks. For everything, Breck. Just…thanks.”

And without another word, she scurried past him and up the stairs.