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“It isn’t just the words, it’s the timing.”
“Timing?”
He hesitated, nervous, and she discovered that hesitation could be sexier than blistering confidence or masculine swagger. To be this nervous meant it mattered to him.
“This whole vacation must have been so hard for you. There’s Izzy, and Clare—and more water than you probably ever wanted to see in one lifetime. If I’d known about your mother, I wouldn’t have pushed you to come.”
She had a feeling those weren’t the words he’d been on the edge of speaking.
“That would have been a shame, because I like it here. And I chose to come, Jack.” She’d come because she was excited by the possibilities opening up ahead of her. Tempted by a life that was different from the one she’d been living.
“You wouldn’t have said no.”
“Are you calling me a coward?”
“You?” He gave a faint smile. “You were like a lioness last night. When you went and stood next to Izzy I thought you were getting ready to savage me.”
She’d temporarily forgotten about the night before. “Are you angry about that?” She’d wondered. After the flash heat of it had cooled a little, she’d stood there slightly startled at the words that had emerged from her mouth and wondered if maybe she should take them back. Izzy was his daughter, not hers. His problem, not hers.
“How could I be angry?” He stroked his fingers over her cheek. “You told me what you thought. You spoke the truth. That’s the sort of relationship I want. I don’t want you to feel you need to walk on eggshells. Intimacy means trusting each other. Sharing.”
“I know you’re worried about Izzy.”
“I am, and last night I handled it badly. I should have been more relaxed about the whole thing.”
“You don’t want her to go to college?”
His smile twisted. “I’m not that relaxed. Let’s just say I’m willing to back off and hope she comes to that conclusion herself. I honestly just want what’s best for her, even if right now she doesn’t believe that. But enough of Izzy. I want to talk about us. You. Coming here must have been so hard. Why did you agree to it?”
“I came because—” The words jammed in her mouth. Honesty. Intimacy. “I came because I have feelings for you. Strong feelings. And I know you have the children to think of, and that you probably—”
“How strong?” He leaned closer, caging her, his body pressing hers back against the rough bark of the tree. “How strong are those feelings? I want to know.”
That confession had been scary enough, and he wanted more? He was asking her to reveal the depth of her feelings, to remove all the protection she’d layered around herself and make herself vulnerable. “They’re strong. And I know you probably don’t—”
“I’m in love with you, Flora. I’ve been in love with you for months.”
Something happened to her knees because suddenly they felt shaky. She felt a little dizzy.
The air was still, the only sound the flutter of a bird’s wing against leaves as it made a bid for freedom through the canopy of trees.
He had to be able to hear her heart hammering, surely?
“You—love me?” Those were the words he’d been nervous to say? She hadn’t thought it. She hadn’t dared think it. But she saw it in his eyes as he smiled down at her. The nervousness was still there, but now it was diluted by something else. Something that warmed every remaining frozen part of her.
“Are you asking for confirmation? How can you not know that?”
The list of reasons flew through her head.
Too soon. Too complicated. Becca. Izzy—
“You never—” Did he mean it? She didn’t trust it, but maybe that was because she wasn’t used to being handed something she wanted so badly. She wanted to gasp, and shriek and swing through the trees. “If that’s true, then why haven’t you said anything before now? Because of the children?”
“I wasn’t sure you were ready to hear it. You already told me that in every other relationship you end up not being yourself just to please the person you’re with. I didn’t want that. I wanted you to be yourself. To be you. And I know you, Flora. I know who you are. So be sure that when I say I love you, I mean it. I’m not in love with some fabricated version of yourself you decided would work well for us. I’m rambling.” He was deliciously flustered. “It might be nerves. Is this making any sense?”
“Yes.” She liked the fact that his words weren’t slick and practiced. It made it all the more believable, and she badly wanted to believe.
“I wanted you to feel comfortable being yourself with me. And wanted you to feel secure that you’d be loved no matter what.”
