It sure as hell would. “Great job, folks. Get your showers, and get the gear cleaned. And someone open a damned window.”
Back in the truck, he realized that funk had settled on him, mixing with smoke and sweat from doing yard work earlier today. God, he needed a shower.
But first, he needed to get Victoria back to the inn.
He started the engine again. “So, what did you think?”
“It was really interesting—except for the moment when I thought you were dead. After you’d gone into the house, I heard aboom, and flames shot out of the window.”
Oh, yeah. That.
“A box of butane canisters blew. That’s why I tell my crews always to wear full bunker gear when overhauling a scene like that, even when the fire seems like it’s out. You never know what kind of surprises might lie in store for you.”
“It scared me to death.”
Really?
“Sorry about that.” He reached over, took her hand, gave it a squeeze.
What the hell?
The moment his skin touched hers, he felt it—raw current arcing between them.
He drew his hand away, tried to act like he hadn’t felt a thing. “I’d say we should work on the video, but it’s already ten-thirty. You need to rest up.”
Tomorrow, Lexi and Austin were taking them horseback riding at the Cimarron, and he’d hate for to miss out on that, too.
“Are you kidding? I couldn’t sleep now if I tried. Besides, I got a three-hour nap in the middle of the day. If you want to work on the video for a while, that’s fine with me. I can show you what I got done last night.”
He pulled his shirt away from his chest. “I’d be up for that, but I need a shower.”
“I’ve got lots of extra towels in my suite, and there are unopened bars of soap and little bottles of shampoo in the bathroom. I’m sure Bob and Kendra wouldn’t mind if you took a shower there, considering the circumstances.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “We’ve only got until Friday to finish this.”
“Okay, then.”
* * *
Vic stoodin the middle of her bedroom, her gaze on the bathroom door. For the first time in her life, she was jealous of a bar of soap. Eric was in there, completely naked, washing that amazing body of his without her.
You are losing your mind.
She crossed her arms over her chest, as if that could somehow ward off the unwanted emotions inside her—desire, sexual hunger, loneliness. She couldnotget involved with him. She couldn’t hook up with a man who’d once hit on her best friend and who made love with women without actually loving them.
Oh, but it would besoworth it.
That’s what she’d thought when she’d met Stewart. She’d been wrong, and she’d paid for it with months of grief, fear, and humiliation. The sex hadn’t even been satisfying. The whole nightmare had proved to her that her man-picker was broken. Like a compass that didn’t point north, hers had led her to choose a man who had tried to destroy her.
Eric isn’t Stewart.
No, he wasn’t. He was nothing like Stewart. Stewart was interested only in himself, while Eric took care of his entire community. Images from the day drifted through her mind. Eric giving Hank a T-shirt. Eric carrying her back to his truck. Eric handing her ibuprofen, taking her pulse.
No, he was nothing like Stewart, but Eric’s own mother had admitted people thought he was a bit of a playboy. Besides, Vic had made herself a promise.
She closed her eyes and let herself imagine what it would be like to kiss him, his hard body pressed up against hers, his mouth coming down hot and hard on hers, his tongue teasing hers. Maybe he would cup her breast, tease her nipple with his thumb.