At least a year.
Shit. “That’s not true.” I don’t exactly remember what happened, but I wasn’t the type of man to hit it and quit it—if for no other reason than that morning sex was the best way to start a day.
Reese now had her breathing under control and turned her gaze to the passenger window, effectively dismissing me.
Or so she thought. “You’re just looking for reasons not to explore this thing between us.”
“Ha!” She barked out a laugh that held not one hint of amusement, but nothing else changed, not her even breathing or the calm arms-crossed position she used as a shield. “I don’t need to look for reasons, Jackson, they’re laid out clearly for anyone with eyes.”
“Such as?” Finally, the signs for the cook-off began to appear and I felt a sense of relief usually reserved for tough days on the job.
“Such as your vanishing act. It means you’re a bad bet, you’re not a guy who sticks around for the hard stuff. The messy stuff.”
“I’m a cop.”
“And maybe that’s why you don’t want anything complicated in your personal life. I get it.” And she wanted no part of it, clearly.
“You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” I found an empty spot big enough to unload the van without moving it again and shifted into park before killing the engine.
“No, Jackson, I don’t.” With those final words, Reese jumped from the van and we began the tensest eight hours of my life. We unloaded the vehicle and set up the cooking station in tense silence. I started chopping and slicing and dicing at my corner of the table while Reese did her thing on the other side, in a cloying silence that reminded me more of a divorced couple than two people who’d just had earth-shattering sex less than a week ago. Together!
“Everything is chopped and in the proper color prep jars. You need anything else?”
Reese didn’t even look up. “Nope, I’m good. Thanks.”
“Great,” I grumbled. “I’m going to look around.” She said nothing and I honestly didn’t expect her to, because if I’d done what she was accusing me of, I’d be pissed off, too. The problem was, I couldn’t figure out when or why I would have pulled a vanishing act on Reese, of all people. I’d broken my No Tulip Girls rule by getting with her because she’d intrigued me from the beginning. Instead of batting her eyelashes and flirting with me relentlessly, she flashed a sexy little smile and handed me my order. She didn’t dig for information under the guise of small-town friendliness, instead, Reese took the info that was offered and that was it.
I’d been intrigued and attracted as hell. But after that night, things were never the same. She wouldn’t meet my eye, and any smiles she’d reserved for me previously had turned squarely to menacing scowls. After a few weeks, I’d just chalked it up to morning-after regrets. They didn’t happen often, but when they did, I found it was best to back off and move on.
And I’d done that, until Janey had thrown her in my path. Again. Charity. Reese’s word rolled around in my mind over and over again as I paid for fried corn for two, and I stopped in the middle of the crowd. Was she right? Did my interest only return because she was here? Convenient?
The answer came immediately. Hell, no. I wanted Reese. Even now, when she was determined to keep an ocean of distance between us, I wanted her. Badly.
I still didn’t have any answers by the time I returned to our tent, but I was determined to try. To break through those barriers—at least, I would as soon as I figured out what had happened a year ago to make me leave Reese’s bed. But the universe had a sick sense of humor, throwing my fresh resolve in my face with the appearance of the last person I wanted to see right now. “Rafe.”
The fire chief turned with a welcoming grin at the sound of my voice and I felt like an even bigger asshole. They were friends. Genuine friends, it seemed, but I couldn’t stop myself from growling and glaring at him. “Detective,” he said, clapping me on the back. “Reese was just telling us what a capable sous chef you’ve been.”
Rafe’s words shocked me so much I forgot to glare at him again before I turned to Reese with raised eyebrows. “You were giving me a compliment. Now that, I’d love to hear. Love.” Arms folded and a smug smile on my face, I waited her out.
Reese rolled her eyes at my words but I saw the small smile form at the corner of her lips. “It wasn’t a compliment, it was an objective assessment of your performance. Satisfactory.” Her emphasis on the word wasn’t lost on me and I smiled, stepping forward.