“Sure.” He sat at the edge of the bed and pulled on his shoes.

How enthusiastic he hadn’t sounded.

She showered and, wanting to look her best, dressed in one of the summer dresses Beck had returned to her. The ice-blue beauty with a deep V-neck and flirty skirt. She forwent a sweater, despite the cooler temperature, no longer concerned by her scars. She was what she was, and Beck liked her—but he didn’t give her the usual heated once-over, didn’t speak to her as he escorted her to the office, and it made her nervous. He didn’t even speak to her as he worked or afterward when he drove her to Brook Lynn’s house.

“What’s wrong?” Brook Lynn asked when she entered.

At last Beck focused on her, watching her intently, waiting for her answer.

She merely offered a half smile. Won’t lie, but won’t admit the truth, either. “Did you get all the paints and brushes from the RV?”

“I sure did. Well, Jase did,” Brook Lynn said. “We have a system. I want, he procures.”

Jase, who sat on the couch in the living room, flipping channels on the TV, nodded. “Through any means necessary.”

Brook Lynn beamed. “I’m awarding you ten points for giving the perfect response.”

“I think I deserve twenty,” he said.

“Then I’ll have to deduct five for silly thinking.”

He snorted.

“What does he do with these points?” Harlow asked in a whisper.

The feisty blonde waggled her brows, and something deep inside Harlow contracted. Sex. Of course. But that kind of game was okay for them to play, because Jase loved Brook Lynn with all his heart, and he wouldn’t allow the romance to die just because they were intimate.

“Come on. I’ll show you where I want the mural.” Brook Lynn led her into the hallway, where the borders had already been taped and the floor covered in plastic. “Now you can tell me what’s wrong,” she said, moving in front of Harlow.

“Well, for starters, I’m a mess,” she admitted softly. “I told Beck I wanted to stop having sex while we got to know each other better, but everything I learn makes me like and admire him more, and I love him so much but don’t want to tell him and scare him away, and I don’t want to lose him, but what if I sleep with him like I really want to do, I mean really, really want to do, but I lose him anyway because we stop snuggling and talking, and all we can think about is sex, and what if—”

Brook Lynn slapped her hand over Harlow’s mouth. “Oh, wow. I would introduce you to Run On Sentence, but I see you’ve already met.” Her hand fell away and she said, “That guy is crazy about you. But, no, you can’t control what he does, feels or thinks. You can only control what you do. If you really love him that much, don’t let fear make your choices for you. It’s only ruining the time you have together. Start actually living. Otherwise you’ll look back and wonder why you didn’t enjoy the time you did have together. And physical intimacy doesn’t preclude emotional intimacy. Not when true, heartfelt emotions are involved. Have a little trust in the man. And yourself! You won’t let the snuggles and talking end.”

“That’s actually a good point.”

“Duh. That’s the only kind I have.”

Bottom line: Harlow had to stop making her choices based on how she assumed Beck would react and start making the right choices for herself.

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “All right. I’m going to go for it, and if everything blows up in my face, I’ll blame you and seek revenge. Now get lost so I can paint your mural and then seduce the man of my dreams.”

* * *

BECK SHIFTED ON the couch for the thousandth time. Harlow had been painting for several hours, and he missed her the way he would have missed a hand, as if she had somehow become a necessary part of him. Maybe she had. Hell, she definitely had.

“Women adore romance,” Brook Lynn suddenly announced. She and Jase were on the couch as well, cuddling together in the far corner, their dog asleep in Brook Lynn’s lap. “Did you know that, Beck?”

“Since I’m pretty sure I’ve dated more of them than you have, I’m going to go with yes.”

“You haven’t dated and you haven’t romanced. You’ve screwed. Do you get what I’m saying?” she asked.

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“Being romantic means cuddling. Sharing secrets.”

He looked to Jase and sighed. “Where is she going with this?”

His friend shrugged. “Got me. I’m not a detective for the mysteries of women. I’d have more luck as a unicorn wrangler.”

Brook Lynn slapped Beck’s shoulder. “Just stop and think. You’re known as the one-and-done man. Now, while you aren’t sleeping with your girlfriend, you’re romancing her. But what happens when you start sleeping with her again? The romance goes away. At least in her mind, it does.”

Well, well. Harlow had clearly confided in Brook Lynn. He liked that she had a friend, but did not like the fact that she hadn’t told him. Instead, she’d pulled away last night, choosing to be alone with her fears while stoking his.

And okay. He hadn’t confided his fears to her, either. Instead, he’d internalized his hurt and snapped answers at her all day.

“Do you still feel like you’re being kept in a cage?” Brook Lynn asked.

“Cage?” Jase asked.