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“Would that be such a bad thing?” There seemed to be more to his thoughts, and I was eager to dig.
“I guess not,” he said, but he sounded distracted. “Hey, can I ask you a favor?”
I guess I wasn’t getting any more information on that train of conversation today.
“Sure. What’s up?” I was really hoping the favor involved both of us getting naked right here, right now.
“I was thinking a lot about our conversation yesterday, and it sparked an idea I had. Well, I first thought about it a few months ago, but it seemed ridiculous.” He hesitated, seemingly unsure about whether he should continue.
“Lay it on me.” I turned toward him and realized part of his hesitation was to stare at my ass. His attempt to cover up his staring was incredibly obvious, and I almost laughed.
“Um, yeah, so I was thinking of starting a rehabilitation center here. I mean, I’ve already done it in New York, so why not my hometown? There isn’t anything like it here, and I’m sure it gets hard having to go to Louisville for care like that. There is a large enough population in the area to sustain it, I think.”
I could see that Tristan was desperate to feel something; he had done it all. He was successful and wealthy, but I admired how money hadn’t really changed him. In fact, it made him a better man. Maybe money could amplify who you really are as a person.
“I think that’s actually a really great idea,” I encouraged him with excitement.
“You really think so?” he asked, matching my excitement.
“Yes, how can I help?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t getting ahead of myself. For someone who wanted to keep him at an arm’s length, I sure was getting too close for comfort, but it was too late. I’d already volunteered to help, and it looked like he was going to take me up on my offer.
“Would you go with me to look at a few sites? I’d love to have a second opinion,” he suggested, looking at me with pleading eyes. I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to say no. If anything, I wanted to give him all the support I could. After all, what else could I offer a man who had as much as he did?
“I think I can help you with that,” I agreed enthusiastically.
“Great,” he said, smiling widely. “I had a few appointments scheduled for today. Would that be too soon for you?”
I shook my head. "Well, since no one is here this morning, looks like I have some free time. Let me just clean up this kitchen." Without asking, Tristan started loading the dishwasher. I loved how he never asked me what he could do, but just started doing something. He really understood a need when he saw it. It was such a turn on and I knew it was going to cause me trouble.
“Thank you,” he said, his face glowing.
“For what?”
“You really helped me see things differently. And you don’t even have to try. You just being yourself is a breath of fresh air.” His gaze was serious and heavy on me.
“Hey, I’m just glad I could help. Sometimes it’s difficult to help someone who has everything they need.”
“What do you mean, everything I need?” he asked. “I don’t have everything I need. I don’t have you, Arya.”
He started to close the distance between us, forcing me to back up toward the counter.
“You have me. We’re friends,” I said with a nervous chuckle. He looked at me like he was a predator stalking his prey.
“We say that we’re friends, but it doesn’t feel like we are,” he argued gently, as he crowded me, pinning me against the counter. My self-control was definitely wavering. He smelled so good.
“Why?” I whispered to him, his body just a few inches away and I could feel his body heat.
“Because of this,” he responded, and without waiting any longer, his lips engulfed mine in a fiery, passionate kiss that had me holding on to the counter for support. His kisses made me weak, and they were hard to resist. They were all I’d think about when we were apart. This man was doing things to me that no one else had ever done. I wanted this kiss to turn into something more. I craved him.
My hand rested on his broad shoulders, and I leaned into him. I could feel his erection on my thigh and I was eager to do something about that.
His fingers brushed the waistband of my leggings, slowly slipping beneath the fabric. Drifting lower, his fingers stroked me through the thin cotton of my panties and I moaned his name. He knew exactly what he was doing and a part of me hated how much I wanted this man.
It took every ounce of willpower to gently push him away.
“We can’t,” I said, trying to control my breathing. I hated myself so much. Why was I pushing him away? This gorgeous, loving, caring man clearly wanted me, but I kept pushing away, believing that I would never be enough for him.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I got carried away.”
