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“Perhaps I should thin the mud a bit.”
I wave a hand in his direction, encouraging him to continue.
“It bothers you because I’ll be around every day. Not something you’re accustomed to.”
I tip my head to the side and half shrug.
“But it comforts you for the same reason.” He pauses when I narrow my eyes. “Because you like me more than you’re willing to admit. To me or yourself.”
Well, damn. He didn’t thin the mud, he washed it away. What he said isn’t pure truth. It also isn’t a complete lie. Either way, the brutal honesty has me unsure how to respond or act. So, I shoot for defensive.
“That’s pretty presumptuous.”
“Not really. We hooked up six months ago under the pretense we’d never see each other again. But don’t deny the chemistry we have.”
Braydon isn’t pompous or egotistical. Quite the opposite. He speaks in hushed tones but isn’t afraid to express himself. Touches with gentleness and purpose, not just for the sake of contact. And the way he sees me is different from others. He sees past the exterior, past the stress and determination.
For someone who knows so little about me, Braydon seesme. The woman who wants more out of life, but refuses to let a relationship get in the way of business.
And the realization scares the hell out of me.
I swallow past the sandpaper in my throat and pray my voice isn’t froggy when I speak. “True.” The one word croaks out and I swallow harder. “I won’t deny it.”
He leans back in his chair and rests his hands in his lap. No cocky smile. No jerk remarks. Just a simple nod to acknowledge we are both on the same page.
And as I study the man across from me, I give in to the vitality and warmth swarming my heart. Let it take over, just a little. In the end, I pray it doesn’t bite me in the ass.
CHAPTER5
BRAYDON
The last woman I fell head over heels in love with broke my heart. When I broke off the relationship, I made a pact with myself to never feel that type of pain again. To never be so vulnerable that one person could turn my life upside down.
Yet, here I am. Schmoozing a one-nighter.
“What the hell is wrong with me?”
First of all, I don’t schmooze. Ever. Hell, consider yourself lucky if I start or carry on a conversation with you more than necessary. I may be a journalist, but that doesn’t mean I go out of my way to talk with people. Most of what I write about doesn’t require a lot of human interaction. That is the beauty of writing about towns, landmarks, and festivities, and not people.
Second, I don’t expend energy unnecessarily. Don’t give all of myself to anyone—personally or in business. And since I discovered my relationship with Gabby had been masked in lies, emotional connections are a no-go.
So, what am I doing?
I met Lessa at the restaurant with every intention to talk business—hers and mine. To get an insider’s perspective on the charming town of Lake Lavender. Learn more about the small town from one of its top business owners. But also, I want to know why she loves living here. What keeps her from moving to the city or somewhere outside of Washington.
We should have talked business. I should have been taking notes.
Instead, we sat across from each other for almost two hours and discussed everything except work. We flirted—more than I have with any woman—and teased. Tossed innuendos back and forth without care. And as much as we fought the pull between us, we eye-fucked each other without shame.
The whole evening had been a refreshing change of pace. A breath of fresh, intoxicating, addictive air. The high from it buzzed through my veins. Had me aching for more—of the night we shared and just… her.
Most of my weekends were spent alone, at a bar, or with family. I’d grown fond of my solitude, of not answering to someone. It meant I never let anyone down. It meant no one could tear me apart.
With Gabby, she always knew my whereabouts and I hers. I never felt smothered and thought she felt the same. Boy had I been wrong. In one night, I learned much of our relationship had been a sham. Regardless of how strong you are, when the person you love tells you the past six years meant nothing, it changes you.
It took me more than a year to kiss another woman. To touch a woman and feel desire instead of pain. I’d had to rewire my brain. Repeat the same phrase for months.
Serious equals heartache.
