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He shrugged. He could give her the canned response, or he could share something real with her like she had. “My parents are . . . I’m always compared to my brother and I always come up short in his shadow. I can never seem to win their approval.”
“That sucks. But in the end, it’s your life to live, and you should do it according to your own rules. Do what makes you happy as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else.”
“What about your family? Did your mother support your dream to run an inn?”
Her body tensed before she wrapped her arms around herself again. “She died when I was seven.”
“I’m sorry.” His stomach knotted.
“It was a long time ago. How is your life in New York City?”
“It’s . . . uh . . . fine. I mean, it’s great. Nothing extra special or overly negative about it. New York is a lot faster paced than here.”
Jasmine tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded. Her brows furrowed as she dug the sand with her bare feet. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
He straightened. The insinuation burned. “You think I would have kissed you if I had someone waiting for me back home?”
She turned, pinning her eyes to him. “I don’t know you at all, Atlas.”
“That’s for damn sure.”
“What do you want from me?” Her voice wavered, vulnerability flashing in her green eyes.
I should tell her about the sale.
“Is it just sex? A fling while you’re on vacation? Because I can’t do that. I have to set a better example for my daughter. That’s not . . . me.” Her gaze clouded over, hesitation in her voice like she wanted to say more.
He wasn’t used to women being so blunt. Just one more thing he liked about Jasmine. She didn’t seem to hold much back. She made it so easy to trust her—too easy.
She seemed lost and fragile. Like a tiny kitten in a storm. But even cats had claws. He’d do better to walk away now. But every time he was with her, it felt like he could breathe finally. He could be himself for once. He could share parts of him those closest to him had no idea about.
His eyes flicked to her mouth. Her pink tongue darted out, licking her bottom lip. He knew what she tasted like. His cock stirred, body heating. Everything inside screamed at him to take her into his arms and hold on to her. That she was the answer to every question he’d never been brave enough to ask. But she didn’t fit in his life. She belonged with family cookouts, and love, not cold galas with fake smiles and rules of etiquette.
He reached out his hand, tracing the edge of her wrist. She inhaled shakily, her eyes boring into his. This growing attraction between them was something more. Something big. He had everything riding on this deal, but all he could think about was the feel of her mouth on his, and the way her legs had felt wrapped around him. Fuck it. He leaned in as she jolted to her feet. She tripped, losing her balance. Arms flailing in the sky, she fell forwards. He opened his arms, catching her against his chest. Her face stopped inches from his. She panted, eyes dropping to his mouth. The struggle creased her brows.
“We can’t.” Her voice was a pained whisper. Like it hurt her just as much to say as it did for him to hear.
“Jasmine?” Bently’s voice interrupted their moment.
She jerked out of Atlas’s embrace, clumsily getting to her feet. He gasped at the sudden empty feeling.
“Coming!” Jasmine said, jogging towards her brother, not looking back.
She sped away, something pulling him towards her. Why did it feel like they were tethered together somehow? Why did it have to be her? Atlas was going to figure this out. Whatever this was between them deserved to be explored even though he had everything on the line. It was worth the risk. She was worth the extra work.
