But she had also found people along the way who she resonated with, and Conrad was a man shedefinitelyresonated with. She thought maybe it was because he was so locked away in his thorny vest trying to keep the world at bay with his roar that she was drawn to him.
In her quiet way she did the same thing. But she used a book in her hands to do it.
She watched his face go stony as he brought his arms up to his hips, glaring at her. She might have gone too far.
Who wanted to have their fears pointed out?
“Afraid?”
She was tempted to backpedal. It would be the easiest way to get out of this, except she didn’t want out. She needed to know what it was that kept him from wanting more intimacy, because maybe it would help her figure out why the only person she’d taken a chance on was a man who didn’t want it.
She knew she was pointing out something in Conrad that she herself felt. Something she didn’t want to cop to. He was just blunt enough to maybe give her some insight or...or say something that would hopefully make her stop seeing him in this light. This romantic light that made her believe she could help him. Even though she was pretty sure he didn’t want to be helped, and that she didn’t have the skills to do it.
“Yup. That’s what I said. Listen, there’s nothing wrong with being afraid of love,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said sarcastically. “I guess that’s your own fear talking right?”
“You’re deflecting,” she said.
“You are too.”
She leaned back against the wall behind her. “I am. I just... I wish there was some way we could both somehow be different but the same. I sort of want everything to be different so we could have more time together. Like this.”
That seemed to relax him. She thought she could see the tension leave his body, and he came closer to her. Reaching out, he stroked the side of her face in a way that almost made her believe he returned her feelings. But then, she already knew he liked her. And liking wasn’t enough. Liking wasn’t what she was after.
She knew that it wasn’t her—Indy Belmont—he objected to as much as it was his fear of being hurt. Though she suspected he wouldn’t say it that way.
“Just let this be enough,” he said. “I’m really not good at anything long-term. Not even the restaurant.”
Not good at long term.
Didn’t love love.
He was telling her these things to keep her from getting hurt. To keep her from doing something impulsive and passionate and making a mistake that she’d end up regretting.
“Me either,” she said.
“Liar,” he countered but not unkindly. “You might want to be, but everything about you and this move to Gilbert Corners says otherwise.”
“I don’t see that,” she said.
“You’re trying to break the town curse. You want to bring business to the town—you are fixing it in a way that I think you want to fix me.”
She chewed her lower lip. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said. “I know I need fixing. I’m not trying to pretend that I don’t. That’s why I don’t do this.”
He gestured to the two of them and she got it. He’d said he wasn’t into dating.
“So why are you?” she asked.
He shrugged and looked away then turned back to the counter where he had been making pasta. She was pretty sure he either wasn’t going to answer or was trying to come up with a falsehood she’d believe. She took a deep breath and knew she could save him by just saying something glib and changing the subject and she almost did.
Almost.
But then she saw the thorny branch that came up from the back of his neck, above the fabric of his shirt, and wrapped around his shoulder just the tiniest bit, and knew she couldn’t. She wanted to be the princess who ripped down the thorns and found her way to the prince waiting inside.
“You like me,” she said. “You might not want to. You might wish it was just lust and getting laid but it’s more than that.”