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“This conversation we’re having.” She gestured between the two of them. “It’s … terrifying. Does that make any sense?”
She finally raised her eyes to his, her gaze searching, drilling into his soul again. Damn. She’s doing reconnaissance. That searching look he’d experienced with her so often … this was her way of gauging whether or not she was safe in any given situation. She was reading the room so to speak, and in this case, he was the room. His heart shattered into a thousand pieces. “Your reaction makes perfect sense to me.”
He suspected her feelings for him ran deeper than she realized, which only added to her panic. Maybe that was wishful thinking on his part, but it made sense. Regardless, after pretending and hiding her entire life, she wasn’t in a place where she could judge whether or not she could let down her guard. How would she know whether or not her feelings were authentic when she’d never been in a healthy relationship before?
Another realization hit him, and the pieces of his shattered heart fell to the sand beneath his feet. In her vulnerable state, if he continued to pursue an intimate relationship with her—unconsciously or not—he’d run the risk of shaping her into the woman he wanted her to be. It didn’t matter what his intentions were. He could squash her chances of becoming the woman she was meant to be. Damn. Damn. Damn.
In that instant, Caleb resigned himself to the sidelines of Theresa’s life. He cared too much about her to interfere with her recovery. “I have a suggestion,” he said, tapping all his reserves to remain calm.
“What is it?” Her expression turned to one of hope, her gaze still penetrating, still assessing.
“First, I’m your friend for life or until you send me packing. That won’t change because you panic or if we occasionally have disagreements. Now that I know what’s going on, I can be more supportive.”
“Really?”
“Count on it,” he managed to croak out. “Here’s what I propose. How about we blame what happened Monday night on the entire bottle of champagne we consumed coupled with the excitement of recording our song together. Let’s go back to the way things were. I want you to feel safe, Theresa. I’m no threat to you, and you can be yourself with me. Always.”
“Whew,” she said, her entire demeanor altering before his eyes. She seemed to let go of the last remnants of the tension holding her in its grip. “I agree. Let’s do that.” She smiled and swiped the tears from her cheeks. “Thank you for being so understanding.”
“That’s what friends are for.” He mustered a smile. “Would a hug from a friend be welcome?”
“Absolutely,” she said, walking into his open arms.
Theresa leaned into him and put her arms around his waist. Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder as he held her close. “I’m so glad we talked this through, Caleb.”
“Me too.” A lump clogged his throat. Oh, and by the way, I love you, Theresa. I didn’t want to. I didn’t plan to, but dammit, there it is. “I’ve got your back,” he whispered.
“You have no idea how much that means to me. I want to be the same kind of friend to you that you are to me, and I’m working on that.”
He swallowed a few times, trying to rid himself of the logjam in his throat. At least he could be a safe harbor for her. He could encourage her, and he’d be there for her to lean on when she needed him. Was it enough for him? Hell no, but for now, building trust and giving her space to grow was more important than being her lover.
Damn, he hated the way his chest had tightened to the point of pain. He let go of her and stepped back—physically and metaphorically. “I hope you like red meat. I made a reservation at this new steakhouse in town. It’s been getting rave reviews, and I’ve been wanting to try it out for a while.”
“Sounds wonderful. Do we have time to walk for a while before dinner?”
Caleb glanced at his watch. “Half an hour.”
“Perfect.” Theresa smiled as she surveyed the beach. “Are we on for Monday to begin working on song number two for the new album?”
“Definitely. I’ll head your way this time. Do you want to do the doggie beach with your boys before or after dinner?” he asked.
“How about before dinner this time?” She beamed. “Then we can be more relaxed at dinner.”
“Perfect. Any word on your mother’s whereabouts?” he asked, hoping to keep things on an even keel between them.
“No, not yet.”
They fell into step, strolling side by side across the sand, once again talking easily about everyday stuff. Despite his best intentions, his mind kept going back to the positives in her revelations, and he couldn’t help but grasp at those straws. Monday night was amazing, and having him in her life meant the world to her.
Time. As long as it took, he’d continue to chase her around the ring, following up with stillness—which he now understood to mean don’t push. They just needed time, and hopefully they’d evolve together into something deep and lasting.
And if the two of you don’t evolve the way you’re hoping, then what? the wet-blanket on his right shoulder asked.
Then he’d turn to his support group to help him get through his disappointment and the heartache. This time wasn’t about death. Sure he’d grieve, but this time he knew what to expect. He’d survive.
Well, hell. Look at that, the instigator on his left shoulder chortled. Our boy has made some progress and evolved all on his own.
Maybe he had, and Theresa had been the impetus behind his growth. She’d shaken him out of his emotional lethargy and jump-started his heart. Having her in his life meant the world to him too. He hoped one day he could tell her how he felt without causing her to emotionally flinch, take the blame, and run for cover.
