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I pressed my hand to his chest, my own squeezing like it couldn’t quite contain the expansion of my heart. Silvery-blue eyes stared, unblinking, into mine, full of hope.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whispered.
“You’re wrong, and I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you.”
Forty-Seven
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Mama said over the phone that evening. “It was only a matter of time ’fore that man charmed you out of your panties.”
Hidden in my room at Ravi’s house, I’d managed to dodge Maribel’s questions and instead called the person I trusted most: Audra Honeycutt.
“He said he loved me,” I whispered.
“Oh, and I don’t doubt it,” she said. “The way he looked at you? Even with me right here watching? Well, the man ain’t got a subtle bone in his body.”
I snorted. Subtle enough, given it took me years to believe he might want me. “He said he’d give it all up for me.”
A small silence stretched.
“That’s some serious stuff,” she said eventually.
“I know.” I curled up on my bed, my body deliciously sore. “I’m feeling kind of…floaty.”
“’Course you are, darlin’! Any woman would be after a declaration of love and a handful of orgasms. The question now is, are you going to let him give it up?”
My thoughts tripped. “Um. What?”
“It ain’t my place to tell you what to do, but I want you to think long and hard about all this, Shay Honeycutt. This may all end in roses and you get a man who dotes on you for the rest of time, but a man who gives that much up might be expecting something in return. He might come to resent you. He might think he owns you. And here’s the real kicker, darlin’. If he really loves you, he might choose something that’s bad for him just to be with you.”
I blinked, unable to speak.
“If you love him—really love him— You know, that kind of love that’s all selfless and poetic and endless? Well, then you have to do what’s best for him, too. Maybe what’s best for him is you. Maybe what’s best for him is you leaving. Now, that’s not a decision you make by yourself, you hear. It’s one you make together. Love’s fine and good, but the future might look different to him than it does to you. You have a conversation ahead of you, darlin’. You gonna make some decisions, and you gonna do it with your clothes on.” She paused. “And do it all before his daddy takes everything from him, ya hear?”
My mother always knew how to cut to the heart of the matter, and I sheepishly agreed because she was right. These were all points that needed discussing.
Soon.
Forty-Eight
Monday morning, I dressed for work with care, eventually choosing a purple dress over leggings and booties. My body was still sore in the best of ways, reminding me of where Cam had been with every twist or step, but a bolt of nerves attacked me as I stood alone in the elevator. How was I supposed to play this? Why hadn’t we discussed how to behave at work?
As usual, a coffee sat on my desk, though it had been upgraded to a non-disposable white-and-gold travel mug patterned with honeycombs and bees.
“Good morning, Helen,” I said, sipping the lavender-vanilla concoction.
She nodded at me and returned to work. I ran my fingers over the gold pattern on the cup, instantly lost to the sleepy memory of Cam’s chest pressed to my back, his fingers trailing down my stomach until he reached the seam of my thighs. Opening for him had been pure instinct, a biological imperative. Behind me, he’d groaned drowsily, the gravelly sound making me grind against him, silently begging for him to—
“Hey, beautiful,” murmured a voice beside my ear, and I startled. Bennett cozied into his customary spot on my desk. “You’re looking…well.”
My face turned to fire. “Shut up.”
“New face cream?” he asked, all innocence.
“Yes. It’s called Mind Your Business.”
He recoiled in jest. “Ouch.”
At that moment, Cam filled his office doorway, leaning on the jamb with his arms crossed. My attention latched onto him, but he wasn’t looking at me. Rather, he frowned at Bennett, who followed my line of sight.
