“What’s that?” I whimpered, the heat and intensity in his gaze causing a shiver to roll through me, my stomach fluttering.
“You make it possible to breathe again.”
He held my gaze, nothing but stark vulnerability and honest sincerity filling his brilliant, blue eyes.
Then he cleared his throat, dropping his hold on me and stepping back, increasing the space between us. “So there you have it. That’s me. Take it or leave it.”
I stared up at him as the ocean breeze wrapped around us. A part of me wanted to tell him this wasn’t part of our original arrangement. That this wasn’t supposed to happen. He was never supposed to know who I was. I was never supposed to know who he was. And we weren’t supposed to share these tortured pieces of ourselves. The parts of our souls we tried to keep under lock and key.
But something about Lachlan made sense. Maybe because he’d suffered something horrific and traumatic. I may not have had to endure such gruesome violence and depravity like it sounded he did. But I knew what it felt like to lose your faith in humanity.
So instead of closing up, pushing him away like I normally would, I did the one thing I swore I never would again.
I gave this man my truth, in all its tragic ugliness.
“My name is Julia Prescott, which confuses everyone since I was adopted by the Bradfords, then married a professor. But instead of taking his last name, I kept my birth mother’s. My favorite person in the world, besides my daughter and brother, was my meemaw. She taught me how to cook. Now I own a national chain of bakeries called The Mad Batter.”
He closed his eyes as realization washed over him, a small chuckle escaping. “I knew you had to be some sort of pastry chef. I’ll admit. I’ve cheated a time or two on my diet by getting some treats from your bakery in Buckhead.”
I smiled. “I hope it was worth it.”
“I will never regret anything when it comes to you.” A peaceful smile lit up his expression, something in the way he peered at me telling me he was talking about more than just cheating on his diet.
When his stare became too meaningful, too penetrating, I averted my gaze. “I love the smell of burning leaves in the fall, the sound of cicadas in the summer, and there’s nothing that makes a bad day good more than feeling my daughter’s arms around me.”
“That’s really sweet.”
“And when I was young and foolish, I made the horrible mistake of marrying a man just to gain the approval of my adoptive mother. A man who was calculating and manipulative. A man who, whenever I contemplated leaving him, did something to remind me who was in charge. Who held all the power. He’d threaten to take my daughter from me. Threatened to hurt all the people I loved. Something to put the fear in me. So, for the longest time, I stayed quiet, a prisoner in my own life. It wasn’t until my brother started dating a girl we found out had been raped by Nick and decided to stand up for herself that I found the strength to do the same.”
With every word I spoke, Lachlan’s expression tightened, muscles tense, nostrils flared. His reaction shouldn't have surprised me, especially considering the state he was in when I saw him sitting on my lanai mere minutes ago. But the anger vibrating off him touched me. Made me feel like I wasn’t alone.
“So there you have it,” I said with a sad smile, mimicking his words. “That’s me. Take it or leave it.”
He studied me for several excruciating seconds. I’d never felt so exposed before. I shouldn’t have been this nervous. He already knew who I was. But it didn’t make it any easier as I waited for him to speak. To say something.
Just when I didn’t think I could handle the silence a moment longer, he advanced, clutching my face as his lips descended toward mine. But he didn’t kiss me. Not yet.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Julia,” he murmured.
My heart warmed at the sound of my real name on his tongue, sexy Australian accent and all.
“And it’s nice to finally meet you, Lachlan.”
His lips curved into a smile as he started to erase the distance between us. But before he could, I pulled back, pressing a finger to his mouth.
“This still doesn’t change anything,” I told him, although my words lacked any conviction. “Our original agreement remains intact. At least the parts we didn’t just obliterate.” I laughed nervously, avoiding his intense gaze. “We may now know who each other is. May have shared our truths.”
I licked my lips, summoning the strength to get this out in the open. It shouldn’t have been so difficult to reiterate the agreement we’d made.
Now, though, it felt…wrong.
“Regardless, I still need to walk away when this week is over. Especially given who you are. After everything my daughter went through when my ex was arrested and during his trial, the media constantly hounding her, scrutinizing everything she did, wondering if she would follow in her father’s footsteps…” I shook my head. “I won’t do anything that has the potential to bring attention to her. And this…” I gestured between our two bodies. “That’s exactly what would happen.
“I may be jumping the gun,” I continued, my words coming quickly, evidencing my nerves. “Hell, you probably think I’m crazy for even entertaining the notion you’d want whatever this is to continue. And perhaps I am. But I—”
“Agreed,” he interjected. “One week. No expectations. No falling in love.”
“No falling in love,” I repeated as I swallowed past the ache in my throat.