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The botched scene with Jack got me thinking about emotion. About how it can really screw you over.
And that’s where the problem with Ronan comes in—the truth that I couldn’t tell him.
I don’t know the man, but I allowed him to whisk me off to New Orleans. Something I would never do.
It’s like that botched scene with Jack opened up something in me.
My emotions remembered that they were there, and they started bubbling to the surface.
Fear.
Fear that another scene might go wrong.
Other emotions, too.
Envy.
I find myself envying Brenda and Dalton and what they have.
Then…
I can’t call it love. No one falls in love in forty-eight hours.
But extreme like. Extreme like and attraction to Ronan O’Connor.
He’s made it damned clear where he stands. He’s not looking for love or even extreme like. He’s looking for a submissive to play with. That is simple. That is all.
And I can’t fault him for that.
It’s what I wanted for so long.
All of this because of a damned botched scene. It wasn’t the first botched scene I ever participated in. It was the reason the scene was botched—because Jack was suppressing emotion for another woman.
In some strange way, his suppression of emotion brought out my own.
I’m scared.
I’m scared that being a part-time submissive may not be enough for me anymore.
I never thought I’d want what Brenda and Dalton found.
But perhaps I do.
And if I do, this thing with Ronan must end, or I’ll end up with a shattered heart again—and this time will be worse because it wasn’t whole to begin with.
I widen my eyes when Yvette takes a seat at our table across from me where Ronan was sitting.
“Good morning, Mary.”
I look down at my empty plate. “Good morning. I loved the beignets.”
“Thank you. I’m very proud of them.” She smiles. “What do you think of my grandson?”
I have no idea why she’s asking, what she expects me to say. “He’s…great.”
“He’s a good man.” Yvette glances toward the restrooms. “My daughter doesn’t have the best marriage with Ronan’s father. They’re still together, but it’s mostly in name only. I saw much more of Ronan while he was growing up than his father ever did. The man was off globetrotting, spending most of his time in the UK and continental Europe. Making lucrative business deals when he should’ve been at home attending to his wife and child. When Simone went with him, as she sometimes did, Ronan was here alone.”
Again, I don’t know what she expects me to say. “Ronan hasn’t told me much about his childhood.”
