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“You can put me down now,” she said a few moments later, as the floors flicked past on their way to the higher-level suites. He set her down on her feet, saw her wobble, and decided he’d had enough of those damn shoes.
“Stay right there.” He crouched at her feet and undid the strap of the first shoe. “Lift your foot.”
She rested her hand on his back while she followed his command. He slid off that shoe, then did the same with the other one. With a sigh, she squished her stocking feet into the carpet of the elevator. “Thank you. The nightmare is over.”
He stayed where he was because she was still holding onto his back and he loved the feeling of supporting her, of being there when he was needed.
All he’d ever wanted was to be the right man for her, he realized in a flash. But he hadn’t known how to be that man. He hadn’t known how to be a man at all, really.
The attention, the sudden fame, the money…it had confused and distracted him. It wasn’t until he stopped drinking that he’d been able to see things more clearly, to understand himself. The divorce had made him really think about some uncomfortable truths. Like…he’d been selfish and not completely honest and he’d hurt Jenna.
Slowly he got to his feet. Jenna’s head tilted as she tracked his movement. He stroked a lock of hair behind her ear, then another one. Her eyes closed halfway with the catlike pleasure of being stroked.
Did he know how to be a man now, the right man for Jenna? He believed in his heart that he did. But he never wanted to hurt her again.
He dropped his hand and faced the door, because if he kept his eyes on her, who knew what would happen.
Sixteen
No matter where she went—restroom, lobby, elevator—Jenna couldn’t escape the sense that something was changing between her and Billy. She’d tried to fight it. She’d fled to the bathroom and given her reflection in the mirror a stern lecture. She’d mentally made anatomical drawings of the gilded pinecone centerpiece on the table.
None of it was any defense against the tide of attraction rising between her and Billy. Not just attraction…connection.
She had no idea where this was going to take them. Part of her wanted to trust it to carry them off to someplace magical. But she had to be smart. Not just for herself, but for the kids.
Back in their suite, Billy turned on the local weather news and they watched the snowfall predictions rise with each graphic. He loosened his tie and undid the top buttons of his tuxedo shirt, giving him a late-night dissolute playboy look.
Which she appreciated, actually. It brought her back to her senses.
She went into her own room and changed into the comfy yoga clothes she normally lived in. In her fluffy socks, with her makeup wiped off, she felt more like herself and less like someone playing dress-up. She thought about Billy on the phone with Annika, explaining all the storm preps he’d set up for them. Keeping his eye on the important thing—making sure they got through the storm.
In so many ways, she trusted him. Could she trust him enough to ask him the question that had haunted her for so long? That moment with Chelsey had brought back so many uncomfortable memories, so many old fears and anxieties.
“They’re all over me, it’s not like I chase after them.”
“Can you swear to me that you’ve never done anything with any of them?”
One thing she’d learned about her anxiety was that she did better if she just faced it instead of letting her imagination drive her nuts.
Calling on all her new confidence, she padded back into the living room.
“Billy, can I ask you something?” No. Scratch that. She was tired of dancing around the men in her life. “I need to ask you something,” she corrected.
Billy was still frowning at the TV as if the anchors were personally responsible for the snowstorm. He must have been running his hands through his hair because it stood on end the way it did after an especially frustrating at-bat. He looked up at her and blinked at her serious expression.
“Sure. What’s up?”
No more dancing around things.
“That time I asked you if you’d ever cheated.” Her heart was pounding hard, as if she was running a marathon. Her stomach clenched and she thought she might be sick. “Remember, we were on the back porch so the boys couldn’t overhear. You shook your head ‘no.’ But there was something in your eyes…I mean, I thought there was something else that you weren’t saying. Maybe you thought I couldn’t handle it. And maybe I couldn’t.”
She knew that part was true. Back then, her handling-things ability was minimal.
“But I can now. Handle it, I mean. So I want to know.”
“Know what?”
“Everything. Whatever you weren’t telling me.” She let out a long breath. If she was going to put her trust in this new connection with Billy, she had to know. Even if it was bad. She could handle bad, or at least, now she could. She couldn’t handle secrets.
