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I snort. “No. Don’t be. This is important. We could always come back.” But deep down, I know we won’t, which is why I’m scared to leave the cabin. This was our safe place, and we were supposed to have a few more days here, days of getting to know each other while wrapped up and insulated against all the crap that isn’t lake life. But Leon’s health is more important than anything else. That migraine he had was horrible, and now he has an opportunity to see a good doctor and get help. I need to do this for him.
Even if I’m scared that as soon as we leave, I’ll lose him.
Which I know is a dumb thought because if I’m that worried about losing him, then it means I never had him. The real world is always going to be out there, and going back a few days earlier isn’t really going to change anything. I have to get the fairy tale out of my head. If we’re going to make it—get to know each other, figure out what we want, and see if we could work together, and if we’re going to keep seeing each other, getting to know each other, and pursuing what we discovered here—then it’s going to have to take placeoutthere.
I want to be all big and brave and strong instead of letting the sad, little whiny girl out of me, but I find my eyes getting hot anyway. I shove back from the table and walk over to the coffee maker to get a cup of coffee, hoping it’ll chase away the tears. It doesn’t. I usually drink my coffee black, unlike my soul, but today, I add cream. Just to buy a little bit of extra time to compose myself, though that doesn’t help either.
I keep my back turned and my hands planted on the counter. The kitchen is all bright and cheerful, and today, I have the blinds cracked a little. I focus on looking out at the backyard. I’m going to miss this place, with the quiet, the trees, the lake, the fishing, and the beach.Andmost of all, all the spots where Leon and I have—
“What’s wrong?”
Leon is at my back, the heat of his body coating me before he even touches me. When he does, it’s a gentle hand at my shoulder, then another hand, his palm curling around my naked skin because I’m wearing a tank top. I shiver at his touch and reach up to set my hand on his. I don’t even think about lying to him.
“I’m scared I’m going to lose you when you leave.”
“Lose me?”
“You tried to chase me away last night.”
I turn around, forcing Leon to drop his hands. I cross my arms, but my whole tough-guy pose goes flat like old soda because my cheeks are wet. Leon lets out a heavy sigh when he sees my tears. His hands cup my face, forcing me to look up at him.
“I don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he admits. “I think all people say that before they meet the death of their ideals in the face of something new and terrifying and so much better.”
His words make my knees tremble, but his hold on me steadies me. “I’m falling,” I admit. “So, so hard. I need you to catch me, Leon. I need to know you’re not going to just drop me. But…but if you do that, I’m an imbecile, it seems, and it won’t change the fact that I’m falling hard and fast, and even if you’re not there to catch me, I’ll pick myself up and learn how to be okay.”
The look on his face. God, the expression. It’s a mixture of pain and confusion and little sparks of joy thrown in, and it makes my stomach clench. This man is my husband, but I want him to be mine, whatever that means, even if we go slow. Although, I’ll never tell him that. That for sure would scare him away. It’s way too much of an alpha female thing to say.
“I’m not going to drop you.” He hesitates, but it’s not the kind of hesitation that makes my heart ache. He’s just trying to find the right words. “This is new for me. I’ve never opened myself up to another person before. You make me like what I find. You make me like me around you.”
If I never see him again like this, staring down at me so earnestly with a messy bedhead, the light of self-discovery shining in his eyes, and a slight flush on his cheeks beneath all that sexy stubble, not at all put together and gorgeously nearly naked, it might actually kill me. It will be a loss that I won’t know how to recover from.
I’m transfixed by him. I’ve always been a little too focused on him, but this is entirely different.
“I know the wedding was fake and all that, and I know things are still messy with work. Yes, you’re still my boss. I haven’t forgotten. I just…maybe this wasn’t or isn’t supposed to last after we leave here, but I want it to, and that’s why I’m crying. Because it hurts thinking that it won’t.”
“I can’t go back to that,” Leon says huskily, his eyes so dark and serious. “Wecan’t go back.”
There’s a new vulnerability that he’s letting me see, and it makes him even more beautiful. “But just because we can’t go back doesn’t mean we can go forward.”
He winces, and he looks so unsure, so tired. I know he’s been sleeping well lately, and that’s not something he normally does, but he probably needs a lifetime more sleep. My body hurts in all the ways I’m becoming so familiar with when it comes to Leon. The bittersweet hurt. I finally freaking get why people say love hurts, and not just in the heartbreak sense. Even the good parts hurt.
His thumb caresses my cheek, and that tiny movement transforms me into a statue, breathing just for him. “I’ve never felt closer to anyone than I do to you. That sounds terrible because I’m very close to my sister, but this is obviously different.” He rolls his eyes at himself. “God, of course, it’s different. Ugh.”
“I get what you mean.” My voice doesn’t sound like mine. It’s way too rough.
“I’m different when I’m with you, and I like it, even if I don’t think I should.” He smiles, though, and it reaches his eyes. It makes me feel like I can hope.
Now that I’ve gotten to know Leon, not having him would be like being shoved into a dark hole and deprived of everything good and fun and wonderful.
“We should probably start packing soon.” I want to put that out there. A truce—me telling him that I trust him not to hurt me.
He nods, but his eyes never leave my face, and when they focus on my lips, I know he’s not thinking about packing anything. Unless he’s thinking about packing himself into me, which might be the crudest thought I’ve ever had, maybe the weirdest one too, but it still makes my body burn, heating painfully from the inside until I’m sure I’m scarlet on the outside too.
“I want to kiss you,” he admits. “Would that be too much?”
“I want to kiss you too.” Wild heat spreads through me, hottest and most furious between my legs.
“You asked me if I wanted breakfast,” he growls, his expression turning hungry, but not for bacon and eggs. “I’m starving, actually.”
