Page 112 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

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RHETT

Ilooked at her standing there in that yellow top that made her look like sunshine. I felt something inside me break. The anger I had been carrying around all day suddenly deflated, leaving nothing but exhaustion and regret in its wake.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I guess it is goodbye. It’s for the best. We both know it.”

I could see she was fighting back tears. The sight of it made my chest ache in ways I wasn’t prepared for. I didn’t do emotions and drama. I loathed weepy people in general.

But she was different.

“Clem, I need to say something before we walk away from this.”

She looked up at me with those green eyes that had gotten me into trouble from the very beginning.

“I’m sorry,” I said, the words coming out rougher than I intended. I cleared my throat, shutting down my own emotions. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you tonight. Taking my anger out on you in the kitchen, being a complete asshole to everyone because I was hurt. That wasn’t professional, and it sure as hell wasn’t fair to you.”

“Rhett—”

“Let me finish.” I ran a hand through my hair, trying to find the right words. “I’m also sorry for showing up at your house last night like some kind of stalker with expensive gifts, trying to pressure you into something you clearly didn’t want.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want⁠—”

“Yes, it was.” I stepped closer, close enough to see the freckles across her nose. She rarely wore makeup in the kitchen. It was smart. I had seen more than one woman come out of a service looking like she’d gone three rounds with Mike Tyson. “And you know what? You were right to end it. You were smart to walk away.”

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What do you mean I was right?”

I looked down at her, memorizing the way she looked in the dim alley light, knowing this would probably be the last time I’d see her like this—close enough to touch, looking at me like she cared.

“Because you deserve better than this,” I said simply. “Better than having reporters chase you down dark alleys. Better than having your family’s reputation dragged through the mud because of who you’re sleeping with. Better than having to choose between what you want and what’s right for everyone you love.”

“Rhett, that’s not⁠—”

“It is exactly that.” I stepped back, putting distance between us before I did something stupid like pull her into my arms. “You deserve someone who makes your life easier, not harder. Someone your family approves of. I don’t want you dealing with someone who comes with a lifetime of baggage and federal investigations.”

The tears she’d been fighting finally spilled over, tracking down her cheeks. I wanted to wipe them away, but I kept my hands firmly at my sides.

“You deserve someone who can take you to dinner without worrying about photographers,” I continued, my voice getting rougher with each word. “Someone who doesn’t have uncles named Big Sal showing up at charity events like they’re auditioning for The Sopranos.”

She laughed despite her tears, which somehow made it worse.

“You’re going to do great things in the culinary world, Clem. You’re good at what you do. I’m not going to bother you, but if you ever need anything, you can reach out. I’ll try and help.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

Inside, I was completely shattered. I had never wanted anything as much as I wanted to be with this woman. She made me feel safe. Like I could let my guard down and just be myself without worrying about who might be watching or what they might think. I wasn’t thinking about my dad or my sordid family history.

Fuck, I was losing my edge.

“Come on, let me walk you to the street. You shouldn’t be back here by yourself.”

We walked slowly. I got the feeling she wasn’t eager to rush away. I wanted to savor every last second I had with her.

“I was going to head home,” I said when we reached my waiting limo that had been brought around to the side. “Do you need a ride? My driver can take you home after he drops me off or I would be happy to take the trip with you. I was just planning to go home—alone. Conroy and Simone are off doing their thing.”

I was rambling. Did I sound like I was hoping for pity? That wasn’t what I wanted. But I did want to prolong our goodbye. There was no way Desman was going to let me anywhere near her again.

“That would be great, actually.”