The Buchanan Saga

He smiled. “A rock star roadie. I would never have guessed. So what happened?”

She grimaced. “I met Neil. I’m still not sure why we hooked up. He’s seriously into the drug scene and I never was. I couldn’t see the point.” She sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. I partied plenty, but I’m a cheap date. Two margaritas and I’m on my butt. Anyway, Neil’s emotionally tortured, self-absorbed, and borderline abusive. Perfect for a displaced nineteen-year-old pretending to be an adult. I fell hard and he let me. When I found out I was pregnant with Zoe, I came home.”

The family-friendly version of the story, Elissa thought, but she didn’t know Walker well enough to tell him the truth. More to the point, there was no reason for him to know every last sordid detail of her past.

“What about you?” she asked quickly. “Any exotic ex-wives lurking in the background?”

“Never married,” he said. “I don’t do serious relationships. It was too difficult with my job. I was gone six to nine months a year, every year. I saw a lot of guys get left. I didn’t see the point.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m still not looking.”

“So we’re both determined to stay single,” she said.

“And not have sex.”

She smiled. “Is that your rule, too?”

“It is with you. I intend to respect your wishes.”

Damn. Just her luck to be attracted to the one man on the planet who planned to actually do as she requested.

Any other guy would have just gone for it. Honestly, what was he waiting for? It was late, they were alone, alcohol had been imbibed. She wouldn’t say no.

That was the killer, Elissa thought glumly. Walker tempted her in a way no man had. Ever. She shouldn’t be attracted to him, but she was. Despite her rules and the foolishness of getting involved with the guy living upstairs, if he suggested getting naked right that second, she would have stripped in three seconds flat. The need to feel his mouth on hers, his hands on her body, was almost painful in its intensity.

“I should go,” he said as he set down his glass and stood.

Obviously not a mind reader. “Thanks for helping me with my boxes. Let me know if you change your mind about wanting any jewelry. As a gift or something. Or if you get your ear pierced.”

She followed him to the door where he paused and smiled at her.

“Do I look like the ear-piercing type?” he asked, his voice low and sexy enough to make her shiver.

“No, but I’ve been wrong before.”

“Not about that. ’Night, Elissa.”

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