“Right. While I’m in town, we’ll get together. Like this.” He gestured between them, indicating what had happened on the sofa earlier.

“So … just sex,” she said, needing to be clear.

“Exactly.”

Her stomach plummeted at his affirmation. She hadn’t planned on riding off into the sunset with the man, but she had hoped for … more. A dinner. A date. Something beyond a meaningless hookup.

Before she could fully wrap her mind around what he was proposing, something that hurt but that she might be able to work with – after all, what started out as casual could definitely turn into something more – he spoke again.

“And no one can know about us. I’m all about keeping business and pleasure separate, and in this case, I can’t afford to fuck up this deal because your brother loses his mind if he finds out about us.”

Pain lanced through her. If there was one thing he could have said to kill anything between them, that was it. “So you’re proposing a secret relationship.”

“Yes.”

“Like the kind my mother had with my father.”

He narrowed his gaze, obviously now realizing he had opened a can of worms he hadn’t intended. “Not really. For one thing, I’m not married.”

She perched her hands on her hips. “Then why keep us a secret if we’re two consenting adults?” She raised her eyebrows, pinning him in place. “Unless you’re ashamed of being with me?”

“No but–”

“Get out.” Her heart beat painfully and furiously inside her chest. She honestly didn’t give a rat’s ass why he was proposing a dirty little secret relationship. Just the fact that he didn’t think enough of her to offer more was reason enough to throw him the hell out now.

He stepped closer, remorse in his gaze. “Sienna, look, you have to see things from my perspective.”

“The hell I do.” She narrowed her gaze, her hand reaching for the nearest item on the counter and coming up with a salt shaker. “I’m asking you one last time to go.”

“And I want you to see how good we could be during the time we have.”

That was it. Her fingers curled around the ceramic piece and she threw it at him, hitting him in the shoulder, before it bounced off and landed uselessly on the floor.

He looked at her, shock in his expression. “I–”

“Get the hell out, Ethan.”

Very slowly, his gaze never leaving hers, he bent down and picked up the salt shaker, placing it on the table behind him. Then he backed away, walking out while shaking his head like only a blind, foolish man could do.

* * *

That had been a fuckup to end all fuckups, Ethan thought. His hand went to where the hard salt shaker had hit him on the shoulder, and despite it all, he grinned at Sienna’s spirit and spunk. She hadn’t taken his shit and he had to admire that about her. But he’d wanted to make her understand his reasoning.