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He thought about it. Malcolm was the only topic that always set him off. Even as a child he’d been quick to get into fights with other kids at school when they brought up Malcolm or his bastard brothers.
“Yes, just one sets off my temper.”
“But you have other hot buttons?” she asked, leading the way into her kitchen. The scent of garlic and tomatoes filled the air and he almost moaned. The combo was one he loved. She gestured for him to have a seat at the small table in the kitchen.
“I have hot buttons for sex,” he said. “Do you have a corkscrew? I’ll open the wine and pour us each a glass.”
“I do. How can you casually mention sex and wine in the same sentence?”
“Easily,” he said. “When I’m around you, sex is always on my mind.”
“Is that the only reason we’re together?” she asked.
He found the corkscrew and opened the bottle of merlot she had sitting by two glasses on the table. “Sex?”
“Yes,” she said, “I’d like to think there is more to us than sex.”
“There is,” he assured her. But he didn’t know what it was and he hoped she wouldn’t ask him. “Do you need my help cooking?”
“Maybe. I’m not a master chef. But I think I’ve got the pasta and sauce. If you want to check the garlic bread that would be great.”
He did and they had a nice dinner talking about nothing important. He sensed that she was on edge. It was the first time she had been that way around him since they’d become lovers.
“What’s made you so nervous?” he asked her after they cleaned up the dinner dishes.
“I just realized today that you mean more to me than I thought you did and I don’t want to say anything to make you leave.”
There was more vulnerability in that sentence than he’d expected and he had no idea how to respond. Her candor startled him.
“Don’t build too many dreams on me, love. I’m still just one of the Devonshire bastards. A man who was born one has a hard time leaving that behind.”
“You aren’t a bastard with me, Steven. And I can’t help having dreams of the two of us together. Even when we were apart, I thought about you.”
Steven leaned back in his chair and took a long sip of his wine. He didn’t want to let her know he’d missed her. She already had too much power over him. Right now he was hard just listening to her talk about the kinds of wine she liked. How much ammo should he give her?
“I’m glad to hear that. Why did you make me wait so long before you asked to see me again?”
She shrugged. The vulnerability in her eyes returned and it made his heart miss a beat. He didn’t want to see her looking like that. He wanted her happy and confident.
“Tell me,” he urged her when it seemed she wasn’t going to say anything.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Well, I’ve been obsessed with you since I wrote that article five years ago. And I wasn’t sure if this new thing between us was just me wanting someone I couldn’t have. I mean, five years ago I was fat.”
“Five years ago I was blind. Because I like you, Ainsley,” he said, even though he’d had no intention of saying anything. “Your body is sexy, but it’s who you are that attracts me.”
She blinked, got up and walked away from the table. He followed her to find she was crying.
“What did I say?”
“Just exactly the right thing,” she said, turning and throwing herself in his arms. “I love you, Steven.”
He froze, his arms halfway around her. Love. Damn. Normally he was adept at avoiding these kinds of relationship talks, but Ainsley had knocked him off track earlier with her questions about Malcolm and tonight with her apology. And he was gobsmacked.
She was staring up at him. Her wide violet eyes beaded with her tears and he knew he had to say something. But had no idea what to say.
He cared for her; he wanted her. But love? He had no idea what that even felt like and he had no idea how he was going to find the right words for this moment. “Thank you.”
“Thank you?” Ainsley hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about what kind of response Steven would give to her profession of love, but she’d expected something more than thank you.
“Yes. But I’m not sure what you see that you think is worth loving,” he said.
In that moment she realized that the sexy, charming man was damaged. Why hadn’t she realized it earlier? His parents’ abandonment had left him as vulnerable as her weight had left her.
When he looked in the mirror, he saw someone who couldn’t love and when she looked in the mirror, she saw someone who was fat.
