She was sorely mistaken.
* * *
ROWDY HAD WAITED for the inquisition, choosing instead to concentrate on getting Avery ready for bed. He didn’t know what was going on, but he could see her fatigue, so he chose to prioritize.
Why had she shanghaied him into visiting her parents with her?
All she had to do was tell her stepfather that he wasn’t her boyfriend—what a stupid term. But instead, she’d acted like she was in love with him.
For Meyer’s benefit? Or did she actually care that much for him? He wasn’t sure.
No one had ever taken him home to meet the folks. Hell, the women he usually screwed cared only about a repeat performance. With Avery, everything was ass backward.
Normally he’d have bowed out if anyone had dared to suggest he tag along for a family reunion. But again, Avery wasn’t every other woman. If she wanted him there, she had to have a reason.
Apparently, whatever the reason might be, she didn’t intend to tell him.
He’d given her plenty of time to bring things up herself. Instead, as she’d eaten a bowl of cold cereal in his kitchen, she’d watched him as if expecting him to jump on her.
He’d done enough interrogations to be a little smoother than that.
With Avery, he planned to use kid gloves.
She’d already washed up in his bathroom and brushed her teeth. Her pajamas were not designed to fire lust, but they did all the same. Especially when she knelt on the bed behind him to change his bandages.
“This already looks better,” she said.
Rowdy felt her delicate fingertips graze his skin. “The stitches itch like a mother.”
“I’m sorry.” She blew softly on his skin after reapplying the ointment. “Does that help?”
It gave him a boner, which was no help at all. “Finish up so we can get some sleep.”
She must’ve taken that to mean they wouldn’t talk, because she moved fast, reapplying the gauze and tape, then scrambling around and crawling under the covers. She had them up to her chin, her red hair spread out on the pillowcase, her blue eyes hopeful when Rowdy turned to face her.
Damn, she looked so...endearing.
And just when in the f**k did he think of women in his bed that way? He didn’t.
Standing, Rowdy stripped off his jeans.
Avery made a sound, but he wouldn’t look at her again until he had his head on straight. “I’ll be done in five minutes,” he said on his way into the john. He brushed his teeth and tried to stop thinking about Avery in such melodramatic ways. He was a man who stayed grounded in reality, and the reality was that he wanted her. Period.
Anything else... Well, he wouldn’t think about it. He’d shove it from his brain so that he could concentrate on more important things.
Like whatever secret Avery was trying so hard to hide from him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ROWDY TURNED OUT the lights, pulled back the covers and stretched out along Avery’s side. With one arm he scooped her in close and slid the other under her head.
She was stiff as a board, her hands still clutching the covers to keep them covering everything but her face. Silly woman.
Nuzzling her ear, he said, “Relax.”
“Did you take a pain pill?”
“I don’t need one. It feels better today.”
Even in the darkness, he knew she looked up at him. “Rowdy Yates, you do not need to be noble with—”
He put his mouth over hers, stifling that absurd suggestion. Noble? Not likely. Nobility was not part of his DNA.
She didn’t loosen up, but Rowdy wouldn’t let it deter him. He continued to kiss her, brushing his mouth over hers until her breathing quickened. Taking advantage of her parted lips, he skimmed his tongue over her bottom lip, and heard the catch in her breath. He kept it light, nibbling, teasing—until finally he licked in, slow, deep, taking the kiss from subtle to full-blown possession. He moved over her so that his chest pinned her down and, God almighty, that felt incredible.
Her hands snaked out from under the covers to tangle in his hair and pull him closer.
Out of self-preservation, he lifted his head. “That’s better.”
“Better than what?” she asked breathlessly.
He trailed his fingers through her silky hair, kissed her once more. “You cowering away from me.”
He started to kiss her yet again, but she planted her hands on his chest and shoved.
Grinning, Rowdy moved to his side. “No more kissing, huh?”
“I was not cowering!”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
She rose up, nose to nose with him. “I’m tired, remember? One of us didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“Damn, honey, stop growling like that.” No way could Rowdy take the amusement out of his tone. He was grinning too much for that. “You sound ferocious.”
“Screw you, Rowdy Yates!”
“Eventually.” He caught her before she could shove her way out of the bed, then had to carefully wrestle with her to get her pinned down again without hurting her. “For a weary woman, you have a lot of fight left in you.”
She bucked hard, almost taking him by surprise. He laughed and put a leg over her. “Does this animosity have anything to do with you trying to avoid our talk?”
She went still, then more frantic.
He held her and kissed her forehead. “Settle down.”
“All right,” she huffed, while still straining under him. “But only because I don’t want to hurt your back.”