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Having told his story, or as much as he intended, he made his way back to the coffee table. “Although to be fair, Grandpa Theodore did his part, too.” Snagging his wineglass, he drained the contents. “In a way I’m grateful to them,” he said, reaching for the bottle. He started to pour, only to change his mind, and set it back down. “They taught me a valuable lesson.”
“Be careful who you trust.”
“Exactly. I promised myself I would never—ever—get taken in again. Wasn’t long after that I came out here and connected with Ana.”
Who became the one relative he could trust. Patience understood now why he’d been so suspicious of her when they’d met. Like her, Stuart had built himself an invisible wall. Granted, he’d built his for different reasons, but the purpose was the same: self-defense. So long as he kept the world at a distance, he would be safe.
He’d shared his history with her, though. To think he’d allowed her to see a part of him few people ever saw. Tears sprang to her eyes, she was so honored. What little there was left of the walls protecting Patience’s heart crumbled to dust.
It was a mistake. Every bit of her common sense knew better. A woman like her, a man like him. Temporary, at best. But she couldn’t help herself. The need for distance forgotten, she brushed her fingers along his jaw.
“Gloria was a fool,” she whispered, hoping he could read in her eyes the words she wasn’t saying.
“Are you sure?” Stuart whispered back. He wasn’t asking about Gloria, but about her. Was she sure she wanted to cross the line they were toeing.
The answer was no, but surety had long since fallen by the wayside in favor of emotion. Patience melted into his arms as his lips found hers.
In the distance, fireworks exploded over the Charles River. Neither noticed.
* * *
The first thing Patience noticed in the morning was the pressure bearing down on her chest. She opened her eyes to discover Stuart lying next to her, his arm flung possessively across her body. Remembering the night before, she smiled. Funny, but she expected the morning after to be uncomfortable, with regrets darkening the light of day, but no. She was so happy she felt as if her chest might explode.
Her smile widened as Stuart gave a soft moan and moved in closer. “Morning,” he murmured. With his voice laced with sleep, he sounded young and unjaded.
Blue eyes blinked at her. “I see you.”
“I see you, too.”
“No, I mean I can see you. I fell asleep wearing my contacts again.”
“Again, huh? Happens often?”
“More than I want to admit.” He rolled to his side. “In this case, though, I blame you.”
“Me?” she asked, rolling to face him.
“Uh-huh. You distracted me.”
“Oh.” She was going to strain her cheek muscles if she kept smiling this way. “I didn’t hear any complaints last night.”
“Oh, trust me, there are no complaints this morning, either.”
They lay side by side, his arm draped around her waist. The intimate position felt so natural it was scary. “But I better not hear any jokes about my glasses.”
“I like your glasses. They give you a sexy hipster look.”
Stuart laughed. It was a sound everyone should hear in the morning. “Maybe we should get you some glasses.” His smile shifted, turning almost reverent. “You really mean what you’re saying, though, don’t you?”
“Doesn’t make a different to me whether you wear glasses or not. You could wear a sack over your head for all I care. Well, maybe not a sack. I kind of like your face.”
“I like yours,” he said, brushing her cheek. Her face. Not her body. Patience loved the way he looked at her. He didn’t see her as an object or even as an ex-stripper. As far as Stuart was concerned, she was a person. Someone worthy of respect.
But do you deserve it? The question came crashing into her brain, reminding her that, in spite of all her confessions, there was still one secret she’d kept to herself. Stuart trusted her enough to tell his story. Maybe she should trust him with the rest of hers?
His fingers were moving south, tracing a path over her shoulder, tugging the sheet away from her skin.
“Stuart...?”
“Mmm?”
“I—” She arched into the sheets as he nuzzled the crook of her neck. “Nothing.” He made it way too easy to give in.
* * *
Ana was talking a blue streak. “...need more events like last evening’s. I asked Dr. O’Hara to get me the CEO’s phone number. When I’m settled back home, I want to make a donation and tell him to earmark the money for entertainment. As I told Dr. O’Hara, patients need distractions, and he agreed. I have to say, I wasn’t sure I was going to like him but he’s much less condescending than Karl. Plus, he has a lovely wife, so he won’t be bothering Patience. Are you listening to me?”
