Free Chased by Love (Love in Bloom: The Ryders): Trish Ryder by Melissa Foster Page B

it.
    “I’m just going to throw this out there because I need you to hear it. I’m not sorry we kissed. It was a hell of a kiss, and we both know there’s something between us. But I’ve got enough people picking apart my life, and I have no interest in going through that with you. So, are we cool? Can we move on?”
    She looked at him for an interminable, silent moment. His gut twisted as she pushed open her door.
    With one foot on the gravel, she said, “Fine. Let’s try to move on.”
    He had a feeling no matter how hard he tried, moving on from that kiss was going to be impossible.

Chapter Seven
    TRISH STRUGGLED TO open the wood-framed bedroom window. The paint cracked and flaked beneath her fingers, falling like fairy dust into the sill. If only there were magical fairies that could help her wade through her whirling thoughts. The cool evening breeze carried the scent of arid earth vying for rain. A soulful melody sailed in with the breeze. Boone must have gone directly to the back porch to play his guitar. The smell of meat grilling hit her, and her stomach growled. She realized he’d never eaten the wings they’d ordered, which was her fault. Their conversation had been tumbling through her mind like the clouds that had rolled in, dark and stormy. She’d assured him that they could move on , which she knew meant he didn’t want to talk about the kiss anymore, but it was all she could think about.
    Her image reflected back at her in the thick glass, and she didn’t like what she saw. She’d wanted that kiss as badly as he’d seemed to, and she’d made him feel like he’d done something wrong. That wasn’t who she was. In fact, most of the way she’d acted tonight wasn’t her typical behavior. She grabbed a zip-up sweatshirt from the closet and pushed her arms into the sleeves as she descended the steps and headed for the back porch.
    Boone sat on the porch steps with his back to Trish. Spirals of gray smoke danced from the grill up toward the sky a few feet from the porch. He was singing softly, and she closed her eyes and leaned against the doorframe, soaking in the husky roughness of every word. She’d been drawn to the deep emotions in his voice from the very first time she’d heard his song “Under Me” on the radio. With the night air washing over her skin through the screen door and his voice tugging the knot in her stomach free, she had the urge to sink down to the floor unnoticed and revel in the moment like a thief in the night. But she’d been selfish enough.
    Boone didn’t miss a beat as she sank down to the step beside him. He turned and smiled, still singing. Her chest and stomach fluttered. She didn’t think she deserved that smile, but she sure liked seeing it. Beside him, the top of the guitar case was propped up against the railing, blocking the wind from the sleeping kitten curled up in Boone’s bed of shirts.
    “ This is where you shine,” she said quietly. He stopped singing. “You have the most incredible voice, and when you sing, you really do become one with the music. It’s fascinating, and impressive, and it made it easy for me to get lost in you when we were singing at the bar. You’re so good.”
    He opened his mouth, and she pressed her finger over his lips, as he’d done to her. “I wanted to kiss you, regardless of whether I was lost in the moment or not.”
    He sighed, nodded.
    “I’m sorry for being such a bitch. I’m really not a bitchy person, although I know I haven’t done anything but proven to be one since we met.”
    “I never said, or felt, that you were acting bitchy.” He set his guitar on the porch beside him.
    “You didn’t have to.” She drew in a deep breath and pulled her sweatshirt across her chest against the chilly air—a barrier against the harsh reality she was exposing. “The truth is, you do scare me, but not in the way you probably think. I don’t know what to make of you, and yes, there’s something between us that is