His brows drew together, then he chuckled, a soft caress of a sound that touched her cheek. "You have a dirty mind, Kate." He ran his gaze over her face. "But I happen to like that in a woman." The shoulder of his chamois shirt brushed her shoulder as he placed a palm on his workbench and leaned past her.
Kate straightened and watched him open one of four wooden boxes about the size of a makeup case. Several levels folded out like stepladders, revealing hundreds of flies. "It should be right here," he said as he lightly sifted through them with his fingertips. He shut the case, then opened a drawer in the bench. "Ahh, here it is." He stood up straight, took Kate's hand in his, and set a brown-and-beige fuzzy fly in her palm. Coarse hair stuck out around the eye of the hook like bushing. The hair continued down the shank wrapped in yellow thread, and shot out the end like a little tail.
"Humpy is the style," he explained as he touched the fly. The tip of his finger brushed her life line and scattered her nerves.
"This is your humpy?"
"Yeah. The dark hair is grizzly and the lighter yellow hair is yearling elk. I spent most of the winter getting this one just right."
Okay, maybe she'd been wrong about the sexual innuendo this time, but she didn't dwell on it because the insides of her elbows started to do the odd tingling his touch always seemed to inspire. And this time her stomach got a little light, too. She swallowed hard and told herself not to be ridiculous. This was not the man she should get all weak over. He had heartache written all over him. And yeah, she was supposed to be working on her pessimism, but that didn't mean Rob wasn't a heartbreaker.
While her sensible head fought for control of her foolish body, Rob seemed oblivious to the chaos he caused. He also seemed so pleased with the fly that she didn't have the heart to tell him that grizzly and elk hair was gross. "Have you been tying flies long?"
"Oh yeah." His gaze traveled up her arm to her lips, then finally her eyes. "My dad taught me when I was a kid." He took the yellow humpy from her and replaced it with a fly that looked like a little mouse. "This is a muskrat. The trout in the Big Wood won't go for this, it's more for bass and pike."
With her hand still cupped in his, she looked down at the incredibly real-looking rodent. "Don't tell me that's a real ear?"
He chuckled. "No. It's leather." Thank God. She glanced back up past the little white scar on his chin, over his nose with the slight bump she'd noticed the first night she'd seen him, and into his eyes. "You made this too?"
"Yeah. It took me awhile to shave the hair perfect."
She didn't know which surprised her more, that a former hockey player with big hands could tie something so intricate, or that he was interested in tying flies at all. Or perhaps it was the fact that they were actually having a real conversation. Like real adults. "This is nice, Rob."
"I have over a thousand."
"Wow, that's a lot."
His gaze dropped to her lips. "Tying helps me take my mind off things."
"What things?"
Without taking his eyes from her mouth, he shook his head. "Don't ask."
"Why?"
"It's one of those things I'd have to show you?" His gaze returned to hers and his voice lowered. "Do you want me to show you, Kate?"
The way he said her name, all smooth and rough at the same time, as if he were making love to her, made her throat go dry. She swallowed hard, but he didn't wait for an answer. He slid his hand up her arm to her shoulder and the side of her neck. His fingers combed through her hair from underneath, and he held the back of her head in his hand. Slowly he pulled her to him, and she did not resist, sucked in by the sexual promise in his green eyes.
"I thought we were just going to be friends," she managed before she lost her mind completely.
"We both knew that wasn't going to last long." He lowered his mouth to hers, and she turned her face at the last moment. His lips touched her cheek, and he kissed his way to the side of her throat.
"But it was your idea."
"I have a better one." She felt his hot open mouth just below her ear. "Do you wanna hear what it is?"
She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook her head.
He told her anyway. "I think we should make out like teenagers. Just rub up against each other and see what happens next."
Kate knew what would happen next, and a traitorous side of her wanted that too. The traitorous side that wanted to forget. Forget that she was better off not liking him. Forget that he was a bad risk and get on with kissing and rubbing and other things. A side of her that hadn't felt this good in a long time, but she was stronger than her traitorous side. "This is a bad idea."
He chuckled against her jaw, and a shivery warmth slid down her neck. "There's a part of me that thinks it's a very good idea."
She was afraid she knew what part he was talking about. The part of him she'd felt a few days ago.
"I want to feel you up like we're sixteen in the backseat of a car. On the outside of your clothes," he said just above a whisper. "Touch you all over, then slide my hands up under your shirt." But he didn't touch her with his hands. Instead he pulled her head back and slid his open mouth to the hollow of her throat. "Mmm, you taste good right here. Your skin is like dessert."
Kate closed her eyes as he gently sucked her flesh into his hot, wet mouth. She liked dessert. Dessert was a good thing, and this man was very good at making her want to be his dessert. Very good at waking desire in every cell in her body. His every breath against her skin whispered his hunger and need, and her body responded. Her breasts tightened and her nipples got hard. She locked her knees to keep from sliding to the floor. He was very good at making her want him back, of forgetting that she had to stop him. "You have to stop now," she said and opened her eyes. The mouse fly fell from her free hand, and she placed her palms on his chest. She couldn't quite force herself to step from his embrace. Not yet.
"I will. Eventually." His free hand slid around the small of her back, and he pulled her against him. Tight. He was hard against her lower abdomen, and desire pooled between her legs. He pressed his forehead to hers. "Tell me you're not crazy."
"What?"
"You're not crazy, are you, Kate?"
At the moment, she felt kind of crazy. Mixed up. Desire warring with common sense. "No."
"Stalked, harassed, or shot anyone?"
He wanted to know that she wasn't another Stephanie Andrews. A psycho who'd stalk him with a.22 after "good sex." The desire fogging her brain cleared enough for her to step from his embrace. "I googled you the other night."
His brows lowered, and he shook his head as if trying to clear his mind. "You what me?"
"I looked you up on the Internet."
"Ahh." He turned away as if she'd just thrown cold water on him. "Did you read all the juicy details of my past?"
"I don't know if I read all of them, but I understand now why you turned me down that first night in Sun Valley."
He moved to the workbench and dumped out the grocery sack. With his broad back to her, he picked up the pencil and tore open the package. "Getting shot tends to discourage a guy from having a one-night stand." He pulled out the pencil and tossed the package on the desk. "It also gets a guy divorced. Although I think that was probably doomed to fail before it even started."
Kate walked toward him. "Did you love her?"
"Stephanie Andrews?" He looked across his shoulder at her. "Hell no!"
Kate had never understood how a man could love his wife yet cheat on her. "I meant your wife."
He nodded as he took the pencil apart. "Yeah, I loved her. Trouble was, I didn't like her most of the time. She didn't like me either. We really only got along when we were in bed, and that wasn't all that often. Either I was on the road or we were fighting."