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“I’m sorry, Reynolds.”
“Sorry? For what? It was a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry because it couldn’t have been easy, no matter how long ago it happened. I’m sorry that she couldn’t see what a good man she had in you. Mostly I’m sorry that she hurt you.”
“Thank you. But I promise I’m okay. I got over it and now I’m the happy-go-lucky guy I am now.”
She smiled. “Yeah. Sure you are.”
“So is that everything? Or would you like to know my blood type and list of allergies?”
Actually, there were a lot of things she still wanted to know.
Like whether he was mad at her because she’d disobeyed him when she took off after him or mad because she could have been hurt. Or when they’d kissed, had he felt that connection and passion and excitement like she had or had it just been him doing his job?
But she also knew that she only wanted to hear one answer to those questions and anything else would break her heart.
Because Reynolds had come to mean so much more to her than she had expected.
Yes, he was strong, handsome, smart, and fearless. She’d known that the first moment she met him. But he also was loyal and kind, funny and thoughtful, and made her feel more safe and protected and cared for than she’d ever felt with anyone else.
Not to mention that his kisses left her breathless, hungry, and longing for so much more.
He was the whole package. Everything she could ever want.
But how could she ever be the same for him? She had baggage, heavy, bone-breaking baggage that would scare any sane man away.
She feigned a yawn and turned around so she couldn’t see him. “All right, all right. I get the point. Go to sleep.”
“Finally.”
“Just promise me something,” she said softly, as the fatigue that had been at bay started to creep over her.
“Yeah?”
“If you do see Spencer? Don’t be a hero. Just be…safe.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Then, with that tiny reassurance, she closed her eyes and almost willed herself to sleep.
Chapter 18
“Easy there, Ronnie,” Bry said the next morning as their host attempted to reel in a massively strong tarpon, the first big catch of the day.
They probably would have caught more had they left when they’d previously agreed instead of nearly an hour later. Or if, once they loaded onto the boat, they had spent less time drinking beer than baiting fish.
Or maybe he was just being irrational and crazy because he’d barely gotten any sleep last night. How could he when Waverley had been sleeping a few feet away from him, wearing a long silky nightgown that hadn’t hid the weight of her breasts or the curves of those hips in the seconds before she climbed into bed and covered herself up.
It had been why he’d been wide awake as she tossed and turned before she started prying into his life and why, long after the first signs she’d fallen asleep, he had still been lying there wide awake.
She now was torturing him both awake and in slumber, making it impossible for him not to face a few inescapable facts.
He enjoyed Waverley’s company. He enjoyed her almost childlike excitement and belief in the goodness in other people.
He enjoyed the way she looked, the way she smelled, and after a few incredible kisses, the way she tasted.
He enjoyed how her lips responded so readily to his, how her body felt crushed against him, and how he’d wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms last night and lay her down on that obscenely large bed and show her just how amazing and wanted she was.
