She went to walk away, but Ryder grabbed her hand.

“It’s not that,” he said. “I mean, it’s not you. I just…”

“I get it. You can’t be seen fucking around, literally.”

“I wouldn’t call what just happening fucking around,” he growled, not liking the slightly dark look in her eyes. He wasn’t ashamed of her at all. Hell, she’d just fulfilled one of his long-standing fantasies. But he was worried about the man that came out around her. He’d just fucked her against his truck, in public, hard. That was not his MO.

When it came to Whitney, nothing was his MO, though. His operating mode was completely different. And that was what he needed to get a handle on. Because living for a fantasy was a sure way to kiss your real life good-bye.

But she was enticing as hell. And the euphoria she left him with was making him want to smile like a fool and beg for round two.

“Doesn’t matter what you call it,” Whitney said. “You stayed true to your word.” She glanced down at herself. “My clothes never came off.”

Yeah, he had stayed true to it, but for the first time, he felt it was a damn shame. The only thought that rushed through his mind and out of his mouth was the exact wrong thing to say.

“Maybe next time, sweetness.”

Because, despite his rules and guidelines, he was definitely already thinking about next time.

Chapter Seven

Ryder measured the wood again, marked with a pencil the spot he needed to cut, and let the tape snap back into the holder. This cabinet was going to be the centerpiece of the entire Davenport Hall and the first thing anyone saw when walking in.

It had to be perfect.

Which was why, despite the time-consuming process, the piece was custom made, right down to the blood and sweat he was putting into it. From the design to the intricate crafting, everything about this one piece was tasteful and elegant.

He took another measurement, glanced at the plans for the design, and made a few more marks.

What’s Whitney doing right now?

Jesus, where had that thought come from? He ran a hand over his brow, then leaned over the workbench and continued with his task.

The workbench was the perfect height. He could hop Whitney right up, toss her legs around his waist, and be inside her in a millisecond—

He flicked his pencil away and took a deep breath. He needed to get his mind right and focus. But damn it, he could still feel her. Smell her on his skin. She was lingering in his brain, his dreams, and his body.

He stared at the massive project in front of him and commanded himself to focus. Yet the one truth he’d known since the other night with her was ringing clear:

He was still thinking about next time he’d see her.

“Hey,” Huck said, coming up behind him and slapping down a stain sample on the cabinet. “Davenport just called and said he wants to go with this lighter stain color,” Huck tapped the sample, “instead of the darker.”

Ryder exhaled and grabbed up the card. “Glad he changed his mind before I started.”

“Yeah,” Huck agreed.

Ryder unhooked his tool belt and adjusted his hat.

“You’re leaving?” Huck asked.

“I’m going to get the stain now. I need a breather.” Which was the understatement of the damn day. He needed to clear his head, and a quick trip to the store was a good excuse as any. So long as he stayed away from the diner, everything should be fine.

It only took him a few minutes to go to the store and grab the color, but already he was feeling better. With the item in hand, he looked over the selection of wood stains—

When a pair of sexy legs in cutoff shorts caught his eye.

Whitney.

She was looking at the mini paint cans, and Ryder couldn’t help but slink down the aisle closer to her. She took down a can and bit her lip while she looked it over, only to put it back and examine another one.

He was convinced right then that everything the woman did was sexy. Even looking at paint.

“Looking for something in particular?” he asked.

She jumped a little, startled by him, and he grinned. Catching her off guard was a special kind of delight.

“Just some paint,” she said.

“Pretty small job if you’re only looking at the tiny sample sizes.”

“There’s some chips and marks on some of the booths at the BBQ. I thought I could patch them up. Penny thinks it’s a great idea.”

Ryder took a step closer, it was his turn to be surprised now. “That’s some initiative.”

She was in town for a short while, yet she treated her job and his sister with respect. There was a lot of character in Whitney, more he was discovering every day. Which wasn’t helping his resolve to resist her.

“Just doing my job. And I like to stay busy,” she said, but he knew it was more than that. She cared enough to help in small ways. There was a lot he wanted to say to her—do to her—but the aisles were lined with people.

“Busy?” Ryder asked. “I take it you’re not the ‘take it easy and relax’ kind of woman?”

The way her gaze hit his chest, then trailed down to his belt and back up, made his cock instantly respond, and those fantasies he’d been fighting climbed to the forefront of his mind.

“There’s way too much to experience for me to relax,” she said, with a throaty tone and a lusty look. “For example, did you know people get naked, cover their bodies in paint and have sex on a big sheet of paper?” She tapped one of the cans and looked his body over as if imagining a painting session herself, and his thoughts were right there with her.

“That right?” he rasped. “Well, I’ve never been much of an art genius, but some body paint sounds right up my alley.”

“Maybe it’s an experience you should consider,” she said with a smile.

He knew right away what she meant, because he’d give up sleep just to stay in orgasmic bliss experiencing her.

He closed in the last few feet until his mouth hovered over hers. He placed his hand on the paint wall behind her and leaned in…

Crash!

One of the paint cans fell to the floor, snapping him back to reality.

Everyone looked his way, and he bent down and picked up the can, thankful it hadn’t exploded.

The trance was broken, and he was kind of pissed at the paint can for that. He set it back on the shelf harder than he meant to.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your experience painting,” he said. With that, he grabbed the red paint he knew matched the color of the booths and handed it to her. He turned and walked back to his own aisle.

Even though everything in his body was screaming for him to turn around.

Diamond: Bright, Shiny, and Rough around the edges.

Whitney held up the T-shirt and looked at the bright red lettering. Hmm. It was her first day off since she’d been in Diamond, and it was a tradition that she always got a shirt from the places she’d been. But she was having trouble picking out the right one.

At least it was giving her something to do until the next time she ran into Ryder. After the paint aisle run-in with him the other day, she’d resolved to stay away from the hardware store, and anywhere else he frequented, because holy hell, just being near him got her hot. And she knew that wasn’t the way to get naughty Ryder to come out and play again.

He wanted distance? She was giving it. It was only a matter of time before that distance ate away at his self-control and brought him back to her for another round.

After they’d had sex on his truck—pause for shivers at the memory—she’d realized that Ryder liked his boundaries and rules and control. And Whitney was learning she liked losing control with him. Especially when he lost it back. He just needed time to convince himself he was in control. And then? Pause for more shivers.