Damn, but she was quick. And funny. And gorgeous. But around her eyes, he still saw deep, deep lines of sadness. Church once a week wasn’t going to be enough. She needed somewhere to go, more to do. She needed to get the fuck out of her goddamned cottage.
“What you been doin’ with yourself?” he asked.
“Visitin’ Gran.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “And I’ve gone ridin’ a couple times.”
“When are you goin’ back to work?”
She shrugged, avoiding his eyes, though they were trained on her. “I don’t know.”
“You loved nursin’. I remember you tellin’ me.”
“I did love it,” she said. “But, I don’t think I’m ready to—”
“So you’re just sittin’ around at home all day? Goin’ to be a lady of leisure like your momma?”
“No! I just . . . I’m . . .”
“You’re what?
She blew out an exasperated breath “Know what? It’s none of your business what I’m doin’! What are you doin’? Loafin’ around this tack room drinkin’ beer?”
In fact, he’d been doing a great deal of work at Wolfram’s Motorcycles. He’d finished all the electrical wiring of the lighting in the showroom and service bays, and he’d ordered some of the more expensive equipment he needed to offer top-notch service on European bikes. He’d purchased a desk, two guest chairs, and a nice Persian rug for the office, and found a townhouse to rent in Lexington, halfway between Apple Valley and Versailles. It was in a gated community with lake views and a swimming pool, far nicer than he required. All that had mattered to him was that it might appeal to Ginger. And he had less than zero interest in exploring why she’d been on his mind so much as he’d signed the lease.
He still wasn’t ready to tell her that he was putting down roots in Kentucky, however.
“I’m stayin’ busy,” he said, keeping his eyes on the TV. “By the way, the hinge on your back gate is busted, and some of the pickets are rottin’ on the fence. I’ll be by to fix it tomorrow. If you don’t relish my company, be scarce, huh?”
She stood up. “Cain, I don’t need your help. I’m perfectly capable of—”
“Maybe a good excuse for you to go see your gran,” he said, looking at her meaningfully.
Her eyes narrowed again, and her voice took on a seriously irritated edge. “How much longer you stayin’?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” he said, looking back up at the TV dismissively. “Does it matter?”
She took so long to answer, he shifted his face to look up at her. She was watching him, her face thoughtful, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. His eyes zoned in on her mouth like a beacon, and his body unexpectedly tightened.
“No,” she finally said, shaking her head. “Not to me.”
Without another word, she walked to the tack room door and slammed it shut behind her.
Chapter 26
Damn Cain anyway, she thought, pulling into a parking space at the Silver Springs Care Center and cutting the engine of her SUV. He had arrived bright and early to work on her fence, and of course her mind had immediately segued back to three years ago, when she’d woken up to find him washing Gran’s truck. A flood of memories had engulfed her—his smile when she’d said “Hey!” from her bedroom window, the way he’d caught her gaping at him from the kitchen as she made them eggs, how they’d gone riding afterward, how she’d fallen even more in love with him.
On the one hand, it felt warm and innocent to remember those fleeting, golden days with Cain—her heart had been so full and hopeful that she and Cain might finally find their way to each other. But on the other hand, it made her heart twist with pain, with embarrassment and regret. The following day she’d declared her feelings to Cain and been ripped to shreds for her honesty. And to console herself, she’d made the abrupt, impulsive decision to be with . . . to offer her body to . . .
Her heart started racing, and she jerked the rearview mirror to look at her face.
He’s just away. He’s just away.
“He’s just away,” she whispered, wetting her lips and blinking her eyes against an unexpected burn.
She’d noticed over the past couple of days that it was becoming harder and harder to block out her memories of Woodman and trick herself into believing that he was only temporarily gone. She never allowed herself to think of