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I shot him a glare. If Shaw turned out to be funny, I was screwed.
“Out? Like . . . on a date?” Her last word was tortured. What was so bad about dinner with me? I ate with a fork. I chewed with my mouth closed. And I’d been told my company was rather charming.
“Everything is opposite. My kitchen is on the other end of the house, which means our bedroom windows are facing each other.” She gave me a sideways glance. “Am I going to hear you grunting some woman’s name in the middle of the night? Because if so, I’ll need to buy new ear plugs.” I slapped a hand over my heart, feigning insult. “You think I’m a grunter? How could you? After all we’ve been through, you’d degrade me to a grunter. I’m wounded.”
Granted, I’d been sleeping with Shaw Valance, so my standards had changed drastically as of late. Take that, Jeremiah.
“I came to grovel.” Presley arched one of those perfect eyebrows. “You came to Montana in February to grovel?” “That’s right.”
I’d missed her. Everything about her. And if dealing with her wrath was the only way to have her at the moment, then I’d take it willingly.
What if she’d fallen in love with Luke Rosen? When I’d left Clifton Forge, I’d been half in love with the guy myself.
So help me, if he’d ruined carrots for me, I’d burn his house down. I’d torch it, stand back and smile at the flames. My feet paused. Should I? No. That was crazy. That man made me crazy.
“Give me a few weeks, then tell Shaw he owes me a beer for stealing my girl.”
It wasn’t as monumental as love, but for a woman who’d lived so much of her life in fear, safe seemed almost as important.
“Will you go out to dinner with me?” “Like . . . on a date?” I scrunched up my nose, holding back a smile. “What’s in it for me?” “Besides a meal?” Shaw’s eyes sparkled. “Me.”