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“Why? What do you think I’ll do to you?”
She shook her head. “Don’t you know? Can’t you feel how attracted I am to you? Don’t you think I know I’m not the kind of girl you date?”
“That’s a lot ofdon’tsandcan’ts.” He took her hand. “Look, I’m just a guy trying to figure out what’s going on between us, too. I’m not using you.”
“But we’re so different. Our views on life are so polar opposite. It’s amazing that I feel myself sliding toward you. It’s like my house is shifting and I can’t get any footing. Soon, I’ll slam into love with you. I don’t think either of us should flirt with disaster.”
Love?The sound of that word on her lips clicked like handcuffs. Sobering. He’d never thought about love. It had always seemed like a word guys used to get what they wanted, and then regretted when they had to spend Saturday at Home Depot looking at pansies rather than watching the Masters. Love felt like a trap. With teeth. And a messy escape.
“Say something,” she said.
“I don’t know what to say.”
So, for several seconds they simply looked at one another.
“I want to go home with you, but there will be consequences to making love. You have to understand because I don’t want to show up at your office in several weeks only to be sidelined like a naughty puppy, pushed aside because I’m bothersome. If that’s what’s going to happen, it’s better that I go inside and tack on my smiley face.”
He didn’t know what the hell to say. Is that how she thought he’d treated Creighton? Like a naughty puppy? Because on the surface it might look as such, but underneath there had been stalkerlike overtones to Creighton’s pursuit of him. She called several times a day, showed up unannounced, and told friends they’d be married by the following year. He’d dated her for only a month before he found theBridemagazines. If he’d been callous, it was only as defense against her relentless hounding even after he’d out-and-out told her he wasn’t interested in a future with her.
“I can’t make promises about anything other than I highly doubt you’d come to my office as anything less than the woman you are—passionate, proud, and not likely to be pushed aside.”
She tilted her head. “You think I refuse to be pushed aside?”
“Not in my experience.”
Mary Paige’s lips tipped up. “That’s a first. In fact, this whole thing—” she swirled a hand between them “—is atypical for me. I’m usually a marshmallow, a total easy pushover. But somehow, I’m not with you.”
“And that’s good?” He snorted, allowing lightness to emerge between them again. They needed to ease out from beneath the heaviness of the words spoken earlier. They needed a reprieve. “’Cause I really wanted to see what you’re wearing beneath that blue satin. Why’d you have to get all staunch and guarded now?”
Her smile looked so much better than her frown. “Oh, you know me, I’m either falling down or denying you sex. I like to keep you off-kilter.”
Yeah, Mary Paige had him spinning in circles, and he didn’t know whether he loved that…or might throw up. It was disconcerting.
But he wanted more.
Mary Paige tilted her head. “On the upside, you’re bringing out something good in me—my backbone.”
“I’d rather see your backbone and what lies below it…along with other choice parts of you.” He offered her a flirty smile as the acid in his stomach quieted and a sense of rightness settled in his veins.
Slow down. Don’t force. Deep breath.
He exhaled and acknowledged this woman had been sent to move him from the prison in which he’d been enclosed. When he’d climbed off that tilt-a-whirl hours ago, he’d essentially broken through the padlock he’d placed over his soul. Now he emerged blinking and uncertain. Better to go slow. Get his bearings. Where he stood with Mary Paige wasn’t comfortable, but it was necessary. She was part of his journey to something more in life.
Didn’t know how or if she’d stay with him.
But he needed more.
Mary Paige was his something more.
“So this thing between us. Maybe you’re right. Sleeping together might be too much too fast, so let’s not rush that,” he said.
“Brennan Henry, New Orleans’s notorious playboy, agreeing to forego the horizontal mambo?”
“Well, said like that…” he teased, glad to find steady ground again even though he knew the journey ahead would be more of a carnival ride, whipping left then right, looping hard, spinning almost out of control.
“How about dinner this weekend?” she asked.
“Like a date?”
