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It nearly undid him.
“Do you really?” It came out all wrong, accusatory and harsh, but he couldn’t have changed it, not with all the ups and downs and the ache at the back of his throat.
He looked away.
“Yes,” she answered calmly. “I may not have known you very well back in Houston, but the reason for that is because you never let me in. I mean, I know that you grew up on Long Island and your dad worked on Wall Street. You went to Penn State and got a degree in international business. But those are just surface-level things by intention. It’s not a mystery to me that you’re the strong, silent type when it comes to intimacy.”
She cupped his jaw and guided his face up to meet her gaze.
“It’s okay,” she repeated. “I meant what I said. You’re here and that’s enough. I’m not asking you to bare your soul.”
Stricken, he stared at her, falling into her empathy with an ocean of relief swimming in his chest. She was giving him a pass and he was pathetically grateful enough to take it.
And then she sealed it with a soft kiss. Her lips rested on his and there was nothing but pure compassion in it.
“Come with me,” she instructed and stood, holding out her hand.
He took it, thoroughly intrigued when she led him to the bedroom. There, she undressed him carefully and threw back the covers on the king-size bed he’d slept in alone since arriving in Grace Bay.
“We’ve got a long day tomorrow and we need to get some sleep.” She patted the mattress. “Lie down.”
She was putting him to bed. It nearly made him laugh, but it caught on the lump in his throat. “Yes, ma’am.”
She was about to leave. Again.
The moment he slid under the sheet, she unbuttoned the borrowed shirt and dropped it to the floor. And then joined him, burrowing under the covers to snuggle up next to him, warm and comfortable.
“You’re staying?” he asked needlessly, but in his surprise, thought it was worth the clarification.
“This is where you are,” she explained simply and laid her head against his shoulder as if she belonged there. “I want to be with you. Turn off the lamp and stop talking.”
But once it was dark, suddenly he couldn’t shut off the swirl of unexpressed commotion in his head. The longer he stayed silent, the worse it grew.
“You know why I don’t babble on about all my innermost thoughts, right?” he blurted out.
“You’re a guy,” Cara responded sleepily and kissed his throat.
Yes, but...it was a flimsy excuse and his DNA wasn’t the real reason. Normally, he’d let it go at that but she’d been so accepting, so easy to be with. So forthcoming about her own struggles. Somehow it loosened his vocal cords. “It’s because of my mother.”
“Isn’t it always?”
He laughed and the heaviness inside melted away. “Yeah. It wasn’t okay to talk about how something made me feel. She would cut me off, change the subject. Mitchells don’t talk to each other about anything except money. It’s what makes the Mitchell world go ’round. Money is a tangible reward for your effort and it’s the only thing that lasts.”
According to George and Judith Mitchell, anyway.
“Is that how you feel about money, too?”
“Money is a by-product of success. I like the things it buys but I get more satisfaction out of seeing what I’ve done with this property than seeing my bank balance grow. That’s the difference between my father and me. His success was measured in zeroes. It was almost like play money to him. So what if he lost a million or so dollars of a customer’s money? He got a commission regardless.” Unrepentant anger swept up from Keith’s gut to inflame his chest. “He was so furious I didn’t want to follow in his footsteps. But I didn’t want money to rule me.”
And he didn’t want a trophy wife either, one who cared only about money, cared only about Keith’s ability to earn it. Like his mother. If Keith decided to chuck it all to go live in a fishing village in the Philippines, he could and no grasping, money-grubbing woman would ever stand in his way.
In talking this through, he got the one thing he’d always wanted from his mother but never received—someone to simply listen to him. His arms tightened around Cara and she slipped one sexy leg between his, but instead of feeling like an invitation to physical intimacy, it was all about growing closer emotionally.
He kissed her forehead. “That was probably more than you wanted to know.”
