Her blood rushed loud in her ears. “What are you saying?”
His gaze traced over her face. “I’m saying that I like being here and cooking you dinner. I liked helping you pick up your new dog. I like that tonight we’ll hang out and share a meal and get naked and all the stuff in between.” He lifted a shoulder. “I guess I’m saying that I’d like to make this more official. A relationship. The commitment thing. Which, frankly, is kind of terrifying to say out loud because I swore I would never have one of those again. But…there it is. This feels different. You feel different.”
Her heart was thump-thump-thumping. He was saying things that prodded at that long lost romantic teen she used to be, that girl who believed in fate and finding “the one” and happily-ever-afters. Wes was offering himself without caveats. Taking a risk he’d decided he wouldn’t take again. Telling her she was worth that risk.
But she couldn’t let herself fully revel in it or taste the sweetness of it. With this type of declaration came pressure, obligation. Not to mess it up. Not to damage things on Wes’s first try out of the gate after his disastrous marriage. And she couldn’t help hearing that voice in her head telling her she wasn’t worth that bet.
She was the high-risk one here. Her therapist was advising her to drop commitments, not add them. Plus, she’d worked in divorce law long enough to know that the number one relationship killer was dishonesty. Right now, she was keeping so many things from him, trying to protect this precious new connection, that she hadn’t even given him a chance to know the real person.
She’d shown him the idealized version because this thing with him existed in a temporary, fantasy-like space for her. So she’d shown him the woman who took off work on a whim and who helped animals and children. The woman who surprised him with a food truck and gave to charity. The woman who seemed to have it all together.
When he’d seen a glimpse of the real Rebecca at the brunch speech—the Rebecca with demons from the past, the one with a tense relationship with her father, the one who couldn’t get a speech out without seeing ghosts—she’d shut him out. Put on the everything’s-fine mask. Lied. Because the truth was scary and ugly. He didn’t know it, but he wasn’t seeing the real Rebecca. He was seeing who she wished she was but could never really be.
“Wes, I—”
He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Don’t say anything now. I know this is fast, and we said we weren’t going to label things. I’m not putting any pressure on you. I just felt it was important to be honest with you.”
Honesty. At least one of them had gotten the hang of that.
“So think about it,” Wes said. “I wasn’t telling you to get an answer out of you. We can eat our dinner and enjoy our night. Just know that the desire to make this a more official situation does exist on my end if you’re interested. Okay?”
She nodded, her breath catching in her throat. “Okay.”
He smiled and released her. “Good. Now let’s eat because you’re going to need all your strength for what I plan to do to you tonight.”
She managed to return his smile, but she didn’t know how she was going to eat a single bite.
chapter
TWENTY-FOUR
Wes kissed Rebecca, walking her back toward the bedroom after they’d finished dinner, wanting nothing more than to fall into bed with her and show her exactly how he was feeling. But even though Rebecca was kissing him back and responding, he sensed something was off. She’d been quiet during dinner and distracted. At first, he’d thought it was because he’d dumped the let’s-try-a-relationship bomb on her with no warning. He’d been on the other side of that kind of conversation in the past. That had usually been the point where he’d pull the rip cord on whoever it was. Nice knowing you, thanks, buh-bye now.
He’d braced for that from Rebecca, had wondered if he’d messed the whole thing up by being so honest. But he’d seen the change in her expression at his words, the yearning there. That had offered salve for the worries. Maybe she wasn’t totally ready yet, but at least some part of her wanted a relationship with him, too. So he’d decided to chalk up her quiet mood to their long day.
But now that off feeling was poking at him again. When Rebecca leaned back against her bedroom door and slid her hands up his chest, he could feel the tremble in her hands. He stopped kissing her and eased back, gazing down at her. “Hey.”
She gave him a small smile. “Hey.”
He pushed her hair away from her face. “What’s going on?”
Her brows lifted. “Uh, I’m making out with Wesley Garrett, last I checked.”
He examined her expression. Normally, when they kissed, it was like a combustion engine. Instant explosive desire, her leading as much as he did. Right now, he felt like she was only half there, going through the motions, and there was worry hovering in her eyes. “Bec, talk to me.”
She let out a breath and sagged against the door, her head tipping back. “I’m sorry. I thought I could block it out. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin tonight.”
He frowned. “Say anything about what?”
She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I had to call and report Steven’s dad.”
Her answer took a second for him to process. “Wait, what?”
She sighed and looked at him, weariness there. “Come on, let’s sit down for a minute.”
She opened her bedroom door and took his hand, leading him to her bed. Unlike the first night he’d been in here, nothing was out of place. The bed was made, the bedside books stacked neatly, the floor clear except for a stuffed rooster toy she’d bought for Knight. He walked past the spot where she’d jumped into his arms and panicked. That had been weeks ago, but it already seemed like those were two different people, just a movie he’d seen about strangers. So much had changed in such a short span of time.
Rebecca guided him to sit next to her and rubbed her hands on her thighs, as if bracing herself for what she had to say.