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CHAPTER TWELVE
What did he say to the woman who rocked his world with a kiss?
Nothing. William had said nothing to Lucy.
The two of them had enough chemistry to split thousands of damn atoms and make them dance a happy, merry jig.
True to form, he had screwed it up. Life wasn’t a goddamned fairy tale. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t anticipated that insane kiss.
Insanely good. In a really not good, totally threw-him-off-his-game kind of way. Insane in that his mind had stopped working, and he’d slipped into some kind of earthquake of confusion when he let her go. The crowd had moved in, and she had disappeared.
Vanished.
He rubbed an exhausted hand over his face at the memory. It was all his fault.
He had found Lucy leaning against his truck in the parking lot. She had been distant when she asked him to take her to the cabin. When they returned, she had immediately changed into her Princess pants and collapsed into bed.
Now, he sat across the room as she slept. Even in sleep, she was stunning. More than that, being with her was generally, well… fun. He missed having fun.
From habit, he slid the worn envelope from his pocket and tapped it against his chin. What advice would his mother have given him about Lucy?
Mom would’ve loved Lucy’s fierce independence and work ethic. Not just because Lucy was a good producer, but because she was real. And a kick to be around.
Right now, though, his time was currently divided between masquerading as a consumer reporter, handling the Crestone acquisition, the Colorado Springs merger, and proving he was up to the task of running the multi-million-dollar company.
Which meant he didn’t have time for a serious relationship. More than that, he didn’t deserve her. He wasn’t an idiot. Lucy was too good. Him? Not so much. He’d never earn the right to lay claim to someone like her.
Lucy as short-term enjoyment? Yeah, that was fine, but the woman behind that lip-lock wasn’t for temporary entertainment. No, that liaison was charged with the undercurrent of a whole lifetime of responsibility.
Lucy shifted on the bed and pushed herself up. Her gaze moved across the room, searching.
For him? His gut clenched.
“What’re you doing?” The just-awake-middle-of-the-night tone she used was ten steps past sexy.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He sat on the end of the bed and placed the envelope on the nightstand. He set a hand on her ankle, like he had when she kicked him that morning.
“You won’t get to sleep sitting up.” The warmth was missing from her brown eyes tonight. They drifted closed, and she laid her head on the pillow.
She had a point.
He climbed into bed and rested his hands on his chest.
Her breathing evened out in the telltale beat of slumber.
There was no way he could take whatever this thing was between them further. He’d start setting his own boundaries and respecting hers.
Sleep had nearly found him when she shifted to rest her head in the crook of his shoulder. Without waking, she curled into him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Now what the hell was he supposed to do? He swallowed hard.
Little sounds and half-coherent words occasionally slipped from her mouth. His chin brushed against her hair, and he inhaled the scent of coconut shampoo. So Lucy. All real.
But not his.
After a while, he closed his eyes, savoring for a moment the woman he wouldn’t allow himself to pursue.
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