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Old Xavier, the pre-Hope Xavier, would have agreed and then gone in all guns blazing anyway. He wasn’t that guy anymore. If he had any lingering doubt that Hope could stand on her own two feet, he only had to look at the woman next to him. Gone was the two-dimensional mousy façade he’d met in New York. In her stead was someone finally coming into her own, confident, candid, and above all, competent. Even so, Xavier didn’t think she was quite done proving herself. It was going to be one helluva transformation.
He turned to look into her bright eyes. “I can. That’s not a reflex answer, by the way. I really think I can, for you.”
Firecrackers went off somewhere in the distance.
“Please don’t feel responsible for all this. I mean, you are, kind of, at the same time you’re not. I didn’t do any of this for us. I know there isn’t anus, but you taught me I was worthy of being seen, that someone could see me. You have no idea how much that means to me.” She waggled a finger at him. “Stop it. I see those lines on your face. Don’t feel guilty about this. Be happy you set someone free. I didn’t do this for you. I did this because I met you.”
Emotion churned in Xavier’s stomach. He wasn’t entirely sure which parts of her speech hit him harder. That he’d been the trigger for Hope making these massive changes in her life or that she saw no future for them. A day would come in the near future when he would never see her again, which hit harder. Before, he hadn’t been able to put his finger on that fact. He realised then the elation of seeing her again was tarnished with the knowledge that they had a finish line for this mad road trip. He was nowhere near ready for that to happen. Where did that leave him?
“Xavier, don’t blame this…” Her finger darted between the two of them. “I don’t even know what to callthis.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s no word in the English language for it. There probably is in French, though. They’re mad shaggers, the French.”
That made her smile. He’d missed that smile. He’d yearned for that smile.
Hope looked out of the railing, avoiding his gaze. “What I don’t know is where this leaves us. You and me.”
Was she asking how he felt about her? Did she want him to tell her she was utterly amazing, and he was trying his best not to contemplate his life without her? He’d swallowed a lot of his usual male bullshit tonight, but he didn’t think he was quite ready to throw himself under that particular wheel just yet.
Coward.
Instead, he ran his damp palms down his jean leg and said, “How about you tell me whatyouwant.”
There it was, a spark, a tiny fraction of the passion he’d seen countless times before. She gave him a look that was difficult to decipher. “I think…I think I kind of like you. You know nothing and everything about me. I want…I guess I want to continue the ride. To stay with you, for the rest of the trip until you do the CD-bla-bla-bla thing.”
“CSLSA.”
“That’s what I said. I know it’s a difficult thing to ask given what’s happened, but I want us to stick this out together for as long as we have left. Let’s run with this ridiculous adventure for as long as we can. Is that okay?”
Xavier didn’t have to think about it. He already knew the answer.
“Lady, I think that’d be fucking awesome.”
“You would? Honestly?”
“I would, honestly. Every moment without you on this trip has been friggin’ miserable. You are the only beacon of light in an ocean of shit.”
“Excellent metaphor. Not at all mixed. Flattering, too.”
“Thanks. What I’m trying to say is I think what we’ve got together is kind of amazing. I have since the first moment we met. You’re unique and funny, and you have the biggest, uh, heart I’ve ever seen.” He waggled his eyebrows in his best vaudevillian imitation. “Also, I’m pretty sure you have no idea how amazing you are. I think you need me to stick around and show you. A lot.”
He leaned over and kissed her more gently than he ever had. “You’re going to have to promise me one thing. No more costumes. I need you to trust me enough to stop hiding behind all this stuff. Deal?”
Her eyebrow arched. “Quid pro quo? You need to start trusting me, too.”
“That I can do. If we’re going to be spending the next week together, I guess I’ll need to learn how to curb my baser instincts around you, huh?”
“Not always, I hope.” A wicked grin graced her beautiful mouth. “Going cold turkey seems ludicrous at this point.” She leaned closer and ran her hand along the inside seam of his jeans. “Like pouring too much liqueur into a glass. It makes no sense to try and get it back in the bottle. You’re much better lying back and enjoying it.”
“I can live with that.”
“Thought you might.”
Hope’s hand felt along the front of his jeans, her expression wicked. Undoing his belt, she slid her delicate hand inside. Something well on its way to being rigid met her eager fingers. Staring into his eyes, she said, “Let’s see what kind of ride we can make this.”
Before Xavier could voice his compliance, the carriage rounded down towards where they had begun. Hope whipped her hand out as they approached the control box. The Ferris wheel stopped. As the carriage swung, an elderly grey-haired man in a cowboy hat considered the couple.
In a southern drawl that flowed over them like syrup, he pushed his hat back and said, “I sure hope you good people ain’t tryin’ to give my wheel a bad name. Don’t rightly know how you folks do things where y’all are from, but down here we keep our saddles on ‘til we get back to the ranch. Y’all understandin’ me?”
