“I made you some dinner,” he says, closing his book and getting to his feet. “It’s in the oven.”
“Oh. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. The cook is off on Sundays, and you were working late. It’s the least I could do.”
I take the plate from the oven and set it on the table. He’s made me steak and potatoes, and my stomach growls at the sight. He’s been doing things like this all weekend. Bringing me lunch. Making sure I’m eating. Cooking dinner. I can’t figure out what the hell has gotten into him, but the more he does, the more conflicted I become.
I cut into the steak and take a bite. It’s perfect. Just the right amount of seasoning. The potatoes are fluffy and flavorful, and the butter is creamy and sweet.
“You sure you made this?” I tease.
Colby stands and saunters into the room before he leans against the counter. He’s wearing a dark pair of jeans and a tight gray t-shirt, and my mouth goes dry. Jesus, this man is sexy.
“I watched some YouTube videos.”
I snort. “Of course you did.”
“Hey, if it makes you happy, I’m willing to learn.”
His eyes bore into mine, and I shiver. “Well, it’s delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
We stand there, staring at each other, and the tension between us builds. It’s thick and heavy, like the humidity before a thunderstorm, and it’s making me dizzy.
I take another bite and chew slowly, trying to ignore the way his eyes are roaming over me. But it’s useless. He’s got something he wants to say, and he’s not going to let up until he gets it out.
“Colby,” I warn, putting down my fork. “If you have something to say, just say it.”
He lets out a breath, and his shoulders slump. “River, I—”
“What? Just spit it out.”
“I just need to know if the reason you’re considering this job is because you’re trying to get away from me.”
“What?”
“Are you running, River? Or is this what you really want?”
His words hit me like a sledgehammer, and the impact knocks the wind out of me. I’ve spent years building walls around my heart. Walls so thick and high no one could ever scale them. And then Colby came along, with his stormy gray eyes and rugged smile, and now every time he looks at me, he’s chipping away at the brick and mortar, slowly breaking down every barrier I’ve ever erected.
So, that begs the question. Am I running?
“I don’t know,” I whisper, looking down at my hands.
He pushes off the counter and stalks over to the table. His hand comes down hard on the wood, and his eyes are pleading. “That’s not good enough, River. I need to know.”
“What do you want me to say, Colby? Huh? That I’m falling for you? That you’ve completely dismantled all of my defenses and I’m terrified of what that means?”
“Yes. All of that. And more.”
“Colby, please,” I beg.
“Please, what? Be patient? Give you time? Well, I can’t, River. I was willing to, but now you’re halfway out the door. So, you either need to give me a reason to hope or tell me right now that you’re leaving. Because I can’t keep doing this dance with you. I won’t. It’s killing me.”
I close my eyes, and hot tears trail down my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. Don’t say you’re sorry. Just tell me what’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”
