* * *
TERESSA LEANED AGAINST the counter for support and rubbed her arms, feeling cold and yes, lonely, damn it. There was no doubt she and Dusty were physically compatible. But she’d known that already. She had the opposite problem, actually. It was difficult being around him and not jumping into those heavily muscled arms of his. Dusty had earned his muscles from honest work, just as he’d earned those sexy crinkles at the corners of his eyes from squinting into the sun. Heaving heavy lobster traps was man’s work. She knew because she’d tried working on one of the local boats one summer. She did the job, but that was all she’d done that summer. Work and sleep. She had immense respect for fishermen.
She eased farther away from him, not that there was much room in her tiny kitchen. Tiny kitchen, tiny house and in her parents’ backyard. Her parents meant well, but she was too old for them to be monitoring her every move. Her mother was likely wondering right this minute what Dusty was doing there so late in the evening. Teressa closed her eyes. Wait until she found out. There was a scene she refused to think about until absolutely necessary.
But she had bigger problems to deal with at the moment. First, she had to keep enough distance between her and Dusty so at the very least, she couldn’t smell his scent of clean soap and ocean and wind. She could become addicted to that smell if she let herself.
And second, she needed to save him from his good intentions. Dusty had an active imagination and left to himself, he’d...heaven knows, decide marriage was the answer to their problems? She needed to hang on to the small bit of independence she still had, because she refused to become that poor woman Dusty Carson saved.
She smiled across the kitchen at him. “We’re friends, Dusty. Good friends. Let’s leave it at that.”
The stress lines that bracketed his mouth softened. “I would if I thought that would be okay, but living here isn’t going to work, and you know it. Your mother is going to have a fit when she hears you’re pregnant again,” he said before she could brush off his concern. “And the house is too small. You’re going to have to move somewhere, and I’ve got a house big enough for all of us. It just needs some work. Which I’m doing,” he added in a louder voice when she opened her mouth. “And where else is there to move to in this village? If you and the kids move in with me, everyone’s happy.”
“Everyone? Really?” What about them as a couple? “This isn’t one of your larks, Dusty. If I ever decide to live with someone, it’s going to be because I can’t live without them. For now I’m fine right where I am. I appreciate that you want to ‘fix’ things, but living together will only make matters worse.”
“You mean I’ll make things worse.”
“It’s not easy living with children, because they have to come first. Always. It’s not like you didn’t have a life before this. Have you given any thought to what you’d be giving up by taking us in?”
He looked at the floor. “Sort of. Not really.” He sighed. “Maybe you’re right. But what about you? What do you want to happen?”
She studied the handsome man standing in her kitchen. She’d forgotten that he’d always been the peacekeeper in his family. But now he was considerate, as well. When had that happened?
She sighed. What did she want? How long had it been since someone asked her that question? And Dusty was right. She had to be practical; her family needed somewhere to live.
She still wasn’t certain Dusty was the answer to her problems. As a matter of fact, if she was certain about anything, it was that moving in with him would cause more problems than it would solve. But she should at least show him the courtesy of considering his offer. It couldn’t have been easy for him to come here tonight.
She sat at the table and motioned for him to do the same. “This is just a wish list, okay? I don’t expect anything.”
He nodded.
“I want a house big enough for my kids and me. But if I ever decided to move in with you, yours needs to be fixed up. I’m not being mean,” she rushed to explain, afraid she’d insulted him. “It’s just, your house is kind of...it needs help.”
“Yeah, I got that. And I’m already working on it. But I’m going to need your help. You have to tell me what to do. What colors you want the walls, that kind of thing.”
Unexpectedly, her nerve endings tingled with excitement. She’d lived in her parents’ house before moving a few feet away into their carriage house. She’d never had a place, not even an apartment, to call her own. Not that Dusty’s house would be hers. But she’d have some say in how to decorate her living space for the first time. That could be fun.
For heaven’s sake, talk about grasping at straws.
“Is that okay with you?” he asked, frowning.
“Yes.” Realizing he was doing all the giving here, she smiled for his benefit. “I’ve never had the chance to decorate before.”
He blazed a returning smile that turned her insides into mush. She blinked and looked away. She shouldn’t have smiled at him.
“I’ll be honest, Teressa. I don’t have tons of money, so the house won’t be as fancy as Cal and Anita’s. But I’ve got some. Like if you want to buy a new stove and stuff. We could do that.”
Oh, hell. He was going to do his nice-guy act, the one that made her temporarily forget how irresponsible he was. Like the time he’d promised to help her paint the table and chairs in the café, then blew her off when an old girlfriend showed up. She and Dusty had been having one of their good days, teasing each other and laughing a lot while painting the chairs outside in the sunlight when a petite, perfectly put-together blonde chased Dusty down at the café. The blonde had fluttered her fake eyelashes once at him, and he was gone. He hadn’t even apologized for leaving her with a half-finished job.
She needed time to think things over. It was too much of a gamble to trust her heart—or those of her children—to him, and she knew better than to depend on anyone too much. Hadn’t she learned over and over again that way led to heartbreak?
She hadn’t been in love with either Sarah or Brendon’s fathers, but she’d been willing to try with Corey, Sarah’s dad. Until she realized Corey had no intention of giving up the parties and settling down. At twenty-two there was nothing more boring than watching people get drunk while you remain stone-cold sober. Was that going to be a problem with Dusty, too? Everyone knew how much he loved to party. Why did she have to fall for the good-time guys? Why couldn’t she have dated an accountant?
“Let’s put the housing issue on hold for now. Like I said, we’re fine here at the moment. We need to talk about our relationship.” She darted a look at his face as it hardened.
He leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Okay.”
“Can we...can we take it slow for a while. See how things go?”
“You mean no sex.”
She nodded. Was that what she meant? She wasn’t sure.
“Do I get a say in this?”
She scratched at a nonexistent spot on the kitchen table. “Not really.”
“You’re not attracted to me?”
She couldn’t hold back her smile. Life would be easier if she could lie to him and say she wasn’t. “That’s not the problem. It’s just...sex complicates things, and with the children involved, I think we should take everything slowly.”
“So that means we could possibly have sex in the future.”
“Something like that.”
“Okay.”
She sat up straighter. That had been an easier win than she’d expected. “Who have you been having sex with?” It