“When you’d have expected what, exactly?”

“I don’t know. I guess a fill-in-the-blank cliché. I don’t actually know any bikers.”

“Which clichés would those be?”

“Tall, dark, and Clint Eastwood-like silent. Or brash, cocky, maybe a little crude.”

He smiled a little. He did that a lot around her. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, but you didn’t. I think…I don’t know. Like you said, intriguing.” She paused. “Wait, what did you mean about me intriguing you? What about me could possibly be intriguing?” She lifted a hand. “Wait, that sounded like digging for compliments. I was actually just curious.”

“You’re not what I expected, either.”

“You have certain expectations of your innkeepers?”

He felt her hands tense a little, where they still rested on his shoulders. She wasn’t holding on, much less coming on-more like holding in place. In fact, she seemed so caught up in what they were saying, he wasn’t sure if she realized she’d been toying with the ends of his hair. Normally he’d say that was a direct type of flirtation. She seemed more…distracted. Until that last comment. “Why did you tense up just then?”

She looked him square in the eye. “You’re not a serial killer, right? Because that would be my karma. I don’t even know what I did to earn a snow-less winter, much less a complete jackass of an ex, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t do anything in this life to warrant it ending with me being hacked up into little pieces. So just tell me you’re not in the habit of going from little town to little town, seducing poor, unsuspecting innkeepers, then stashing them in the basement freezer.”

“Have you ever considered becoming a writer? Because that’s quite an imagination-”

“So, that would be a no? You’re evading, actually.”

“Well, if I was a killer, I’d just smile and tell you whatever you wanted to hear anyway, so you’re not going to automatically believe everything I say.”

“True. I faxed your license to the sheriff’s office.”

He couldn’t help it. That made him pause. And he was pretty sure his smile had faded along with it.

“Uh oh,” she said, and started to slide her hands from his shoulders.

He quickly covered them, but gently. “No, nothing like that. I just-you can ask your local sheriff everything he discovered about me. That’s not it.”

“You say that like there’s a long list of things to be discovered. Anything you want to confess up front?”

“I’ve never killed anything. Or anyone,” he added.

“Okay. Felonies? Pending charges? Assault? Robbery?”

“Wow. Either I made a really wrong impression on the bike, or you really have lousy taste in men. What, exactly, did this jackass of an ex do to you, anyway?”

“Did I say that out loud, too?” She sighed and shook her head when he nodded. “See, I don’t have taste in men.”

His brows lifted. “Really? Because I could have sworn-”

“No! I mean, I didn’t mean it that way. I have interest in men, but…never mind. Let’s just say that I haven’t had to worry about my taste levels or lack thereof. Lately.”

“Ah.”

“Ah, what?” She ducked her head and sighed. “Clearly, this is a good thing. Accuse you of being a crude, serial-killing, bank-robbing biker with a manicure, and, just in case you’re the type that is attracted to psycho basket cases, make sure you add lonely and pathetic to the list.” Kirby did remove her hands this time, and then she stepped back before he could keep her close. “Why don’t I stop while I’m already so far behind there’s no recovery? Because, given another few minutes, I wouldn’t be the least surprised to discover I could actually make it worse.”

He laughed. Which clearly surprised her. It even surprised him a little. Because psycho basket cases most definitely were not high on his list of women he wanted to go to bed with. No amount of good sex was worth that. Which went a long way toward explaining his prolonged celibacy of late. Not a lot of sane and normal in the casino life.

Maybe not in Pennydash, Vermont, either, as it turned out.

“Not that I’m not relieved you have a sense of humor, but why the laugh?”

“When I said you weren’t what I expected, either, it wasn’t as an inn owner. I was going based on appearance. Like you were with me. You’re tall and graceful, with such quiet features and serious eyes. Seeing you, without ever meeting you, I’d have pegged you as somewhat culturally elevated, perhaps even a bit snooty, definitely over-educated, traditional, conservative…”

The corner of her mouth kicked up in a dry smile. “Ruined that perception pretty good, huh?”

“Mostly. Maybe. But that’s what drew me.” He reached for her again. “Draws me.”

She moved back a half step. “I’m really not a psycho basket case. Over the past two years, I’ve been more sane than I’ve probably ever been, well certainly given the ten or so odd years that came before it. Speaking of which, I’m a lot older than you.”

“Okay.”

She cocked her head. “Okay?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure I get the significance. Unless it bothers you. People are people.”

“Age is just a number?”

“No, not at all. The number of years a person has put in should impact them in some way. Hopefully with increased wisdom, but not always. With life experience, to be sure. Sometimes where they are on their path doesn’t match with where I am on mine, but otherwise, people are just people. I don’t limit my exposure to them, or my attraction to them, based on how old they are. Or aren’t.”

She continued to look at him.

“Bad answer? It’s the truth.”

“No, not at all. Possibly the best answer.”

“What then? Are you hung up on my being younger?”

She shook her head. “Not as it pertains to me, anyway. I can say I wish I’d had your more advanced worldview when I was your age. Would have saved me a ton of grief and loads of unfulfilled expectations.”

“The jackass ex again?”

She shook her head. “No, I was talking about me. Jackasses are jackasses. It’s not so much their fault when they do nothing to pretend otherwise. Then it’s on the one who keeps thinking they’ll change. It was that age-equals-wisdom thing that hung me up. Well, that and a pretty good case of insecurity and inexperience. Also on me.”

“Clearly you figured it out at some point. How long ago did your epiphany come about?”

“Oh, about two seconds after I walked in on a private meeting he was having with his assistant-you know, one of those clothing optional meetings?-whereby he was telling her that of course there was nothing to worry about. I was too busy running around doing everything he told me to do to keep his fabulous resort running like a well-oiled machine while desperately trying to win his respect and continued support to ever imagine that he would be unfaithful to me.

“Or maybe it was a second or two after that, when he laughingly responded to her question regarding his ever marrying me by stating that why would he ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him? He had someone he could count on to be loyal, hardworking, and give him the very best both at work and at home, all for a less than commanding salary. He’d have to be an idiot to marry me.” She tapped her chin. “Yep, it was pretty much right about then. Of course, the kicker is he was completely right.”

Brett grinned. “So…maybe the real question is whether or not you’ve committed any felonies that I should know about.”

She blinked and looked rather mortified by her outburst for a second, and then grinned right back at him. “Fortunately I managed not to ruin the next fifteen to twenty years of my life, no. I’d already given him ten.” She lifted a hand. “And please, I am not asking for or expecting pity. You can’t be surprised when folks treat you like a doormat when you never stop them from walking all over you. Some of us just have a much steeper learning curve than others. Walking in on that meeting was the best wake-up call of my life.” She smiled even more broadly then and he loved how it animated those eyes of hers. “See? Totally not a psycho basket case.”