Suddenly, it wasn’t Edwin Jessup from Mrs. Patmore’s kindergarten class standing there. It was a man she saw with fresh eyes. A currently shirtless man.
And he looked good.
She fought it.
She edged sideways—had Eddie always been this big?—but as she did, she caught a glimpse of a large duffel on the passenger’s side.
She knew it. Same old Eddie. “Doing the drive of shame?”
“I don’t get your meaning. ” He pulled on his T-shirt—finally—and as he did, she heard him murmur, “Sure is chilly with you. ”
She hated the stab of jealousy she felt…at him frolicking around all over town, at her always being the chilly one. It riled her even more and she stabbed a finger at the junk littering the inside of his pickup. “Just getting in from an all-nighter? Real classy, Eddie. ”
“All-nighter?”
Razor, dirty shirts and socks, an extra pair of shoes…he’d clearly been based out of his truck for a couple of days. Was it with someone she knew? Or maybe he’d crashed with whatever hottie it was in Reno he was always dashing off to see. The mother of his child. Her stomach lurched for reasons she didn’t want to contemplate.
“Actually”—she put up her hand—“I don’t want to hear it. ”
“What are you talking about?” He glanced into the cab at his stuff, and as her meaning registered, his face fell. He gave her a flat look to match his flat tone. “Yeah, Laura, I was out all night with my many mistresses, having hot times in my pickup. ” He shouldered by her, slamming the door behind him. “Why do you insist on seeing the worst in me?”
What right did he have to look so hurt? He was the one sleeping around, not her.
“I was just asking,” she muttered.
He stopped, turning slowly to look at her. “I can’t figure you out. ” The way he shook his head said he was about to give up trying.
But she didn’t want him to give up, and that was what she couldn’t figure out. She fell into step behind him as he went to the back of his truck. “That’s because I’m complicated. Unlike you. ”
“Oh, I’m easy as pie. ”
“Easy. I’ll just bet you are. ” She scowled at his head—his hair stuck up every which way, like a man who hadn’t showered that morning.
Why on earth was she feeling her heart crack? Why did it seem like everyone had their secret lives except for her?
He caught her staring and gave a beleaguered sigh. “Hat head, Laura. Because I went to bed with wet hair. Not because I was out all night partying. ”
He reached into the truck bed for his hat, a black Giants cap he settled onto his thick, brown waves. And did he have to be so damned cute?
He kicked back, half sitting, half leaning against the bumper, arms crossed at his chest. “But enough about me. How about you? How’s your fiancé? Or did you throw him over for that TV douchebag? Gotta hand it to the guy—all that jewelry and hair gel, he sure is pretty. ”
“At least he works an honest job. ”
Eddie popped to standing. “Don’t talk to me about a good day’s work. Nobody works harder than me and Jack. ”
She felt a stab of regret at her hurtful words, but there he was, looming over her again. Her defenses kicked in and she sidled out of his way. “It’s Jack and me. ‘Me first is the worst. ’”
He stepped closer, angling his body to face hers. “You think I’m some sort of redneck idiot, don’t you?”
She forced herself not to retreat. “No. ”
He took another step closer. “So, is that the kind of guy you like? Pretty?”
This time she stepped out of the way, a move that put her up against the side of his truck. “Of course not. ”
“Then what do you like?” His voice was a mesmerizingly low rasp. He placed the gentlest finger beneath her chin, tilting her face up to his.
She should’ve said, Not you.