If Only (The Willowbrook Series Book 1) by Ashlyn Mathews Read Free Book Online

found Rhys waiting for her in the kitchen with an opened carton of eggs and a package of bacon.
    “Two eggs scrambled and two pieces of bacon fried to a crisp, right?”
    Wow, he remembered. “Yes, please, and you’re totally awesome for offering to cook.”
    He cocked a brow. “Got something on your mind, Asa? Your sweetness has me thinking you have ulterior motives.”
    “I’ve always been sweet, so I don’t know where you get this idea that I’m—”
    “With Eve, you’re sweet. With me . . .”
    She held her breath. With me what?
    “With me, you’re you.”
    God, what the hell did that mean? She wanted to shake the answer out of him. Instead, she said, “I want to talk about what happened earlier. It’s important for me to know you believe me, that the condoms aren’t mine.”
    Grabbing a skillet, he started to scramble her eggs and fry the bacon. “Like I said—”
    “It’s none of your business. I get that,” she said. “Just say you believe me. That’s all I’m asking.”
    Rather than answering her, he slid her food onto a plate, handed the plate to her, and proceeded to cook his own breakfast. And he did those things without revealing any emotion. There wasn’t any anger, jealousy, or curiosity. Nothing.
    Tired of getting nothing in return, she took her plate to the table, yanked the chair back, and slumped into her seat. While she picked at her food, he set a big glass of OJ in front of her and sat.
    “You should eat more. You’re too skinny.”
    “You like skinny girls.”
    “I like healthy women,” he volleyed back with a flicker of annoyance in his eyes before he blinked and hid that too.
    “I’m skinny and healthy.”
    He stuck his fork in his eggs and grunted.
    “What’s that mean?” she asked.
    “It means I’m hungry,” he said and shoved food into his mouth followed by a large gulp of OJ.
    Gritting her teeth at his dismissal of her, she ignored him for the rest of their meal.
    Afterward, she grabbed their empty plates and practically tossed them into the dishwasher. “What now?”
    Yes, she sounded downright bitchy, but at this point she didn’t care. Being next to him, unable to tell him how she felt because she wasn’t sure of his feelings for her was plain torture. It’d make any woman grow horns and breathe fire.
    “The workshop gets its heat from the generator. I’ll be in there messing with the bike,” he said.
    Ah, so he’d rather be with his dirt bike than stay in the house with her. Asa tried to hide her disappointment, but when she muttered a, “Oh, I see,” her hurt was evident.
    “Asa—”
    “Don’t worry, I’ll find something to do.” She started to yank the bottles of spices from their places in the rack. “Maybe, I’ll fill those condoms with water. Then later, we can have a water balloon fight or a snowball fight. Anything, as long as you’re the running target.”
    “Imaginative, but vindictive, Asa girl.”
    He unraveled her with the contradiction of his words. Call her vindictive then follow it with an endearment?
    She blinked back the tears threatening to flow. “You’ve only said I was your Asa girl once, Rhys, and once had been enough for you. Remember?”
    He shook his head and closed the gap between them to grip her shoulders as they stood in Jo’s kitchen.
    “Once wasn’t enough, don’t you understand? One night with you could never be enough to get you out of my system, out of my damn mind.”
    Suddenly, the house was too small.
    “What do you want from me, Asa? Just tell me. I’m sick and tired of this back and forth crap between us—hot one moment and cold the next.”
    She wrenched herself out of his grasp, controlled by feelings she had suppressed for too long. “I want your forgiveness for blaming you in my father’s death. That’s all I want. But if I ask—”
    “Then we would be finished. I wouldn’t see you again, and we’d both move on,” he said, confirming what they both understood in their hearts.