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“That’s enough,” Lucas declared. “I listened to your mental origami, and let me tell you, I am impressed with your ability to fold facts into a brand-new shape. But it’s my turn to talk. Are you in love with me?”
She almost groaned. Why did he have to go there? “That’s irrelevant.”
He tipped her chin up and pierced her with those blue laser beams. Scared of what he’d see, she jerked away and buried her face in the pillow.
Great. The entire bed smelled of pine trees mixed with her lotion.
“It’s not irrelevant to me,” he countered quietly. “I’d like to know what’s going on inside you.”
So would she. Thoughts of babies and long-term should not be so hard to shove away. The hurt shouldn’t be so sharp.
“Why?” she mumbled, her face still in the pillow.
He growled in obvious frustration, “Because I care about you.”
She rolled over and said, “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“Really? I’d argue the exact opposite.”
“You can argue about it all day long. But you’d be wrong. You like to take care of me. That’s different than caring about me.”
He snapped out a derisive laugh. “Maybe we should start this whole conversation over. We suck at communicating unless it’s ‘more,’ ‘faster’ or ‘again,’ don’t we?”
No, they didn’t have any communication problems when they were naked, which was exactly what had gotten her into this mess. Intimacy with Lucas could never be divorced from emotion. Why had she pretended it could be? “Which is why we’re done with that part of our relationship.”
He sighed. “Look, honey. I messed up. But I’m here, talking to you, trying to fix it. And you still never answered the question. Are you in love with me?”
“Stop asking me!” she burst out, determined to cut off his earnestness and dogged determination to uncover the secret longings of her heart that she didn’t understand and did not want to share. He had enough power over her already. “It’s just warm feelings for the man I’m sleeping with because he’s superawesome in bed, okay? It doesn’t change anything. You’re not in love with me. You’re still on the lookout for a baby factory. And I need a divorce, not all of these complications.”
“Complications are challenges you haven’t conquered yet,” he said, and the tension in his face and shoulders visibly eased.
Her tension went through the roof.
Of course he hadn’t fallen all over himself to declare his undying love. Not that she had expected him to after she’d backtracked about her broken heart.
In matters of the heart, they were cut from the same cloth—excellent at emotional distance and not much else. The divorce deal was perfect for them both.
“I’m not up for any more complications or challenges, thanks. Can we cut to the chase?” She sat up and faced him. “Are you going to file for divorce or not?”
He held her gaze without blinking, without giving away his thoughts. “No.”
Her eyelids snapped closed. He’d finally made his move. Checkmate. “You can’t do this to me, Lucas. Please.”
“I can’t do what? Give you what you really need instead of a divorce you’ll regret? You’re a vibrant, beautiful woman, yet you aim to shrivel up alone for the rest of your life. That’s not right.”
He ran a hand through her hair, letting it waterfall off his fingers, and his touch, so familiar, nearly caved in her stomach.
Being alone had never been her goal. Avoidance of suffering had been the intent, but she’d done a shoddy job of it, hadn’t she? The tsunami of agony hadn’t just drowned her; it had broken through every solid barrier inside, allowing sharp-edged secret dreams to flow out, drawing blood as they went.
“Cia, I’m offering a long-term partnership, with advantages for both of us. We already know we like each other. The sex is great. We’ll figure out how to do your shelter without the trust fund. Together, we’re unstoppable. Why can’t you consider it?”
“Because it’s not enough. There’s a reason why I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. I don’t know how to do long-term.” He started to respond, but she cut him off. “And neither do you. Sex isn’t enough. Liking each other isn’t enough.”
He hurled out a curse. “What is enough?”
Love.
Oh, God. She wanted something he couldn’t give her. Something she didn’t know how to give him. No wonder she couldn’t answer his questions.
She shied away from relationships because she had no idea how to love a man when living in constant fear of the pain and loss sure to follow. She had no idea how to love without becoming dangerously dependent on it.
