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“I know it wasn’t critical, and it took time away from my duties…” I cleared my throat, gaze dropping away from his, focusing on his throat, and—fuck—why did the man have to be sexy everywhere, including that throat? That stretch of skin and corded muscle just called for a woman to shove her face in and hold on.
His arms would wrap around her, around the woman he wanted close, and the world would fall away.
And everything would be all right.
Shewould be enough.
Not overwhelmed constantly. Not feeling like she was constantly alone, and the world was on her shoulders. Not ever doing enough, nevergivingenough.
She would be me and I—
Was nother.
I released a breath. “Anyway, it doesn’t take much time and my pages are bright and colorful and that makes me happy.” I shrugged, cleared my throat again. “So, yeah, I like planners and stickers and washi tape and cute little paper clips and—”
“Harpy,” he said gently.
Stiffness in my shoulders, my jaw flexing.
Well, I’d wanted to stop blabbering on about stickers and washi tape. Congrats. That nickname poured cold water on my rambling tongue, stoppered up the talk about planning.
I wasn’t the woman he wanted, the one who’d cuddle close and press her face to his throat.
It wasn’t like I was tall enough to reach, anyway.
Joel didn’t like me. That was okay. He didn’t have to. He was—as much as it pained me to say—a good guy.
Just…not with me.
Which wasn’t fair, I knew. It wasn’t like I expected everyone to like me. I had plenty of people on my shit list.
The difficulty came from the fact that Iwantedeveryone to like me.
It was a character flaw.
And I wanted the good guy who was Joel—who looked after my niece in her time of need and had gotten his shit together and become a valued member of River’s Bend—to like me.
To be as gentle and kind with me as he was with Bailey, with Dessie, with the other women in our circle.
So, when he showed me a glimpse of gentle, I died a little bit inside.
From happiness.
From…knowing it wouldn’t last long.
Because itneverlasted long. Not for me.
“You’re allowed to take a minute for yourself,” he said giving me that gentle,gentletone. “Even more than one.”
Safe and gentle and warm.
I inhaled, shook it off.
“They’re just stickers,” I said, setting the roll down and turning away from him.
“Rosie.”
Sweet Christ. That blasted through me like a bullet ricocheting through my insides.
