Page 8 of Keeping Laryn
He loosened his hold on her arm but didn’t let go. Even through her coveralls, her skin seemed to tingle where he was touching her. This was bad. Very bad. She needed to put some space between them. But she was frozen. Wanting him to keep touching her and hoping he let go at the same time.
“Are you all right?” Tate asked. “You’ve been working extremely hard. And please know everything you’ve done for us, for me, has been noted and appreciated. But you shouldn’t work yourself into the ground.”
“Are you drunk? Or high?” Laryn whispered. His faculties being altered felt like the only explanation for this abrupt change in behavior. He’d never really asked if she was all right before. Not like this. Not by taking time out of his day, finding out where she lived, and just randomly stopping by. Something had to be wrong.
But he chuckled. “No. Nothing of the sort. I’m just worried about you.”
He wasworriedabout her? “Why? Did I do something wrong? Did I screw something up?”
“No,” Tate said again, this time sounding more like himself. A little irritated. Abrupt. Although, also a bit out of sorts. “Can’t I come by to check on a friend? Especially when she’s been working fourteen- and sixteen-hour days to retrofit the helicopter I’ll be flying on a mission in a week?”
Laryn had a feeling her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t help it. Tate Davis had called her a friend. It was more than she’d ever expected, and so much less at the same time.
“Wearefriends…aren’t we?” he asked.
Similar to his nervousness when he stood at her door, he now had a note of uncertainty in his tone. This was a man who was confident in everything he did. He had to be, in order to be a Night Stalker pilot.
“Yeah, of course.” The words were affirmative, but she had a feeling her tone wasn’t quite as believable.
He winced.
Yeah, she’d never been a good liar. Her dad had always seemed to know when she was stretching the truth.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
Laryn shook her head. “No. When I got home, I was too tired.”
“Why don’t you go change. I’ll see what I can find to make us.”
Her mouth was open again. Laryn couldn’t help it. “You’re going to cook?”
“Well, that depends on what you have. But I was thinking more of putting something together, like sandwiches. But if you have something you want me to cook…casserole, steaks, grilled chicken and veggies…just let me know.”
“I might have stuff for sandwiches,” Laryn told him, quickly trying to do a mental inventory of what was in her fridge.
“Good. Go on. Take a shower. Change. Relax. I’ve got this.”
But she still hesitated. This was such a bad idea. The worst. She still wasn’t really sure why he was there, but she couldn’t kick him out. She’d dreamed about this for years. Having Tate in her apartment, in her kitchen, making her dinner. Okay, maybe she hadn’t dreamedthis, but having him talk to her as if she was a normal woman, and not simply the mechanic responsible for the helicopters he flew? Yes.
“It’s fine, Laryn. Good. Promise.”
It was as if he could read her mind. He slowly released his hold on her upper arm, and for a second she wished her arms were bare so she could feel his calloused hand against her skin. What his touch would feel like on other, more intimate parts of her body.
But she immediately shut that thought down. As much as she was into him, she wasn’t going to have a one-night stand.
Wasthatwhat this was? He thought she was desperateenough to sleep with him? He needed to get his rocks off before the flight trials?
“I’m not sleeping with you,” she blurted.
Tate didn’t seem offended in the least by the question. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. That’s not why I’m here. Not that I’m opposed…but again, that’s not why I came over.”
She was still in the dark about why hehadcome over, but now she couldn’t think about anything other than him saying that he wasn’t opposed to sleeping with her. What would he do if she jumped him right now? Just threw herself at him and tore his flight suit off? The image made her lips twitch.
“Something funny?” he asked with a quirk of an eyebrow.
