He had nothing to worry about.

Nothing—except the overwhelming possessiveness he felt toward her. Rowdy rested his chin on the top of her head, closed his eyes and, holding her close to his heart, allowed himself to sleep.

* * *

ROWDY WAS FAR too enigmatic during the drive to her stepfather’s house. Avery had seen him in many moods, but he’d never been this closed off from her. She’d tried to engage him in casual conversation, only to have him give short, succinct answers that didn’t encourage a reply.

“Are you okay?”

He glanced at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You’re so quiet.” Avery admired his strong profile. They’d slept in—an aberration for both of them—and had to rush to get out of the apartment in time. Rowdy had taken a quick shower but wasn’t freshly shaved. He looked ruggedly gorgeous with the whiskers on his lean jaw, his dark blond hair finger combed. “Is your back bothering you?”

“No.”

“It can’t be comfortable sitting in the car that way.” She’d offered to drive, but not only had he refused to use her car, he’d kept the keys to his own well out of her reach. Men. “I wish you had let me drive.”

“I wasn’t sure if we might get followed again, and since I know how to lose a tail, I figured it’d be better if I drove.”

Oh. So it had nothing to do with the man-woman thing? “You could have told me.”

“I just did.”

Exasperation threatened her mellow, well-rested mood. “So were we followed?”

“Haven’t seen me doing any fancy driving, now, have you?”

She supposed that was the best answer she’d get with him in this mood. “I think it’s going to storm.”

He leaned forward to look up at the storm clouds overhead. “Probably.” With a glance her way, he asked, “You have a warmer coat than that?”

They’d each dressed casually, Rowdy in jeans and a black T-shirt that showed off every amazing muscle in his torso, she in jeans and a beige pullover sweater. He’d brought along a flannel shirt; she wore her lightweight jacket.

“I have a regular winter coat, I just hadn’t figured on needing it yet.” For October, it was unseasonably cold with storms rolling in.

“How’s the heat in your apartment? Warm enough?”

Seeing the train of his thoughts, Avery leaned toward him and put a hand on his solid biceps. As always, his obvious strength gave her shivers. “You don’t have to worry about me, Rowdy. I can take care of myself.” His skin was so warm, taut over bulging muscle.

Tonight, after work, they would have sex. It was going to be a very long day, starting with her family reunion.

Under her hand, his arm flexed. “I wasn’t worrying.”

“Showing concern, then. It’s not necessary. I promise I have enough sense to feed and dress myself, and to stay out of the elements.”

He gave her an inscrutable frown. “Almost there.”

She remembered Alice saying that Rowdy could take a punch, but wasn’t good at accepting compliments. Apparently any and all human emotions seemed like weaknesses to him and ranked right up there with compliments.

She knew why, and it tugged at her heartstrings. Scooting closer, she hugged herself up to his arm and put her head on his shoulder. “Thank you for asking.”

He shifted, put a hand on her thigh and said, “If you do need anything, let me know, okay?”

No, she wouldn’t do that to him. His parents had mistreated him. His sister had needed his protection. Society had abandoned him. And women wanted to use him for sex.

At least in this one small way, she could be different. Instead of Rowdy taking care of her, she wanted to take care of him—for as long as he’d let her. “Thank you for coming with me today. I’m sorry that you got put on the spot.”

His hand caressed her leg. “Not a problem, honey. But before we get there, do you want to tell me why?”

“Why what?”

“Why you wanted me along.”

“Meyer suggested it.”

“And you could have told him I’m not anyone’s boyfriend.”

True, but she couldn’t very well tell Rowdy she’d wanted to defend him. If he didn’t like a compliment, he definitely didn’t want her defense.

“Good company?” she offered as her excuse. Given the look he gave her, he didn’t buy that. “It’s true. Don’t get alarmed, Rowdy, but I enjoy being with you. And no, that doesn’t mean I’ll always expect you to—”

“You’re worried about seeing your mom again?”

So he didn’t want to hear her reassurances, either? Fine. She wouldn’t keep telling him; she’d just show him. “No. I mean, it feels a little awkward. I’ve been away for so long and I didn’t leave under the best circumstances.”

“The circumstances being?”

She’d had time to think about this, about how to explain without going into too much detail. “We had a disagreement. Remember, I told you that my folks wanted me to settle down? Well, so did my stepfather. He thought he could hook me up with the perfect guy. Only I didn’t think he was so perfect.” That was all true enough, though it didn’t come close to covering it all. It didn’t tell him how pushy Meyer had been about it, or how abusive Fisher had acted.

It didn’t tell him that no one had believed her, that they’d all believed Fisher’s lies.