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Because he couldn’t love her. Or at least he wouldn’t. Not for much longer, anyway.

Chapter Fourteen

Julie padded quietly out of her bedroom, her eyes so puffy from a night of crying and fitful sleeping that she could barely see.

She halted when she registered that Mitchell was in her kitchen. He was wearing the same dark jeans and gray polo shirt he’d had on the night before, but his hair was damp and she smelled her

own cucumber soap. He’d showered in her bathroom.

For some reason, the thought made her heart do a little happy dance.

His hair was curly when it was wet. It should have made him look completely rumpled, but other than the unrulier-than-usual curls, he looked completely tidy and polished. She felt a rush of affection for the sheer orderly perfection of him. It was strange to think that the same structured persona that had drawn her to him for professional needs now appealed to her in the most personal of ways.

“You’re a nice guy, Mitchell Forbes.” She walked into the kitchen and slid an arm around his waist as she nuzzled the hard plane between his shoulder blades.

He tilted his head down, adjusting his glasses to look at her. “I certainly didn’t feel like a nice guy when I copped a feel at six a.m.”

Julie gave a slow grin. He’d copped a feel and then some. “I liked it,” she said quietly.

He planted a quick kiss on top of her head. “Sit. I got us bagels.”

Julie shook her head and accepted the foil package he handed her. “This is what I mean. Nice guy. You hold me when I cry, don’t bat an eyelash when I tell you I went on a date with someone else, and then you go and fetch me breakfast.”

He unwrapped his own bagel sandwich without looking at her, his expression unreadable. After a long moment blue eyes flicked up to hers. “I didn’t sleep much last night. All I could think about was you. With someone else. I didn’t like it.”

The bite of bacon, egg, and cheese that had tasted deliciously greasy seconds ago turned rancid. She forced herself to chew methodically and then took a small sip of the coffee he’d set in front of her. She should have known she wouldn’t be let off the hook that easily. Just because he was sweet didn’t mean he wasn’t human.

“It didn’t mean anything.” It sounded weak even to her own ears.

“Then why’d you do it?”

Julie fiddled with the foil, her appetite completely gone. Do it. Confess now. This is your chance. She knew now that she had to tell him. But she kept hearing his whispered words as she drifted off to sleep: I love you. She couldn’t hurt him. Not yet. She wanted these last few precious days before she had to ’fess up.

There was no guarantee that he would forgive her, but she had hope. Especially when she told him the decision she’d made this morning.

She wasn’t going to write the story.

Mitchell meant too much to her. And even if it wouldn’t break his heart to have their relationship splayed across Stiletto’s shiny pages, it would break hers. What they had was too precious to share with the world. It was theirs and theirs alone.

Of course, not writing the article meant that she technically didn’t have to tell him at all.

Except that she did.

Julie might not know much about relationships, but she knew that the good ones weren’t founded on secrets and lies.

But first she had to explain away last night’s mistake. “Mitchell, I really am sorry. I wish I could explain exactly why, but the truth was I freaked out about whatever this is and thought a backward step might help.”

“Did it?”

She answered with her eyes. No.

He studied her for several moments before reaching across the table and taking her hand. He rubbed a thumb over her knuckles. “So we’re not seeing other people?”

Julie blinked in surprise at how much the thought of Mitchell with someone else hurt.

“No,” she breathed. “I don’t want us to see other people.”

He raised her hand to his lips. “Me neither.”

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