Romancing My Love (Love in Bloom: The Bradens) Contemporary Romance

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Romancing My Love (Love in Bloom: The Bradens) Contemporary Romance Page 19

by Melissa Foster


  “I just need a little space to think. I…”

  He drew her down to the couch beside him. “Babe, talk to me. Please don’t shut me out. What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t—” Look at you without seeing pity. She looked away. “I just need a little time to think clearly.”

  “To think clearly? How about telling me what’s really going on? Are you upset that I said I wished you’d told me about staying in your car?” His tone was compassionate, but she heard an edge to his voice.

  “No. No, that’s not it. I just…I think I need time to deal with it all coming out in the open.” She met his gaze, and everything good about them swirled around her. She was herself with Pierce, and even though she knew it was a struggle for him not to wave his money around and make all her troubles go away, he respected her need to do some things for herself. At the same time, he pushed in the areas that made sense. And she liked those things he pushed for: opening doors for her, pulling out chairs, wanting to protect her when they were out. She’d noticed the way he held her tighter when other men were around and the way he always took an extra second to make sure they were in sync in the bedroom. She loved so much about him that she needed to get ahold of this other stuff that was clouding her vision before she ruined everything.

  “I feel funny about all of it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away, but I did what I felt I had to. Now that you know, I just feel weird. I think I need a little time to digest it all.”

  He pulled her closer. “Can’t you digest it with me?”

  “No, because every time I look at you, I feel it between us.” She pulled back. “Not between us like breaking us up, just like it was this big thing that…” She shook her head to try to clear her thoughts. “I don’t know how to explain this except to be brutally honest.”

  “Babe, I’m used to your brutal honesty, so go ahead. Give it to me.”

  “You’re looking at me with probably the same look you always have, but I see something so different. You’ve been kissing me with all the tenderness and all the love a woman could ask for, and I can’t shake the feeling that it’s because of everything that’s come out. It’s stupid, and I realize that, but, Pierce, even if you can get past this, I need to be able to get past it, too.”

  “I’m past it, Bec. You lived in your car. I get it.” He stared into her eyes. “What do you need to get past? You’re no longer in that car. You’ve got two places to live.”

  He wasn’t hiding a damn thing. Not one single emotion. It was all right there on his face—he loves me—but damn it, she still saw pity.

  “Hard times call for drastic measures. You did what you had to do, and keeping it from me was just what you felt was right. I hope that you know now that there’s nothing you can’t trust me with, but I don’t think of you any differently than I did before I knew. What you see in my eyes is love, Rebecca, plain and simple.”

  “That’s just it, Pierce. You can tell me all the right things, but it isn’t changing what I see and what I hear. I know this is my issue, not yours. I love you so much. God, I never thought—never dared dream—that I’d ever love someone, or be loved by someone, as much as I love you. And yet here we are. My mom’s pictures are in your house, my clothes are in your closet, and you? You’ve taken up residence in my heart and there’s no evicting you.”

  That earned her a smile that made her vision even cloudier.

  “What are you really afraid of?” Pierce kissed the back of her hand.

  “Nothing.” It was a knee-jerk response. She was afraid of plenty of things. Not being able to make her life happen the way she wanted it and being looked at like a charity case fought for the top of the list. Maybe they weren’t normal fears for a woman her age, but they were hers, and she couldn’t do a damn thing to make them go away. She had other fears, too. Like right now, she was afraid that walking out the door might change things forever with Pierce, but staying there and not working the kinks out in her own mind might do more harm than a night or two apart could ever do.

  This was one of those times when she wished she had her mother to talk to. She didn’t allow her mind to go down that lonely path often. Rebecca had become an expert at compartmentalizing her feelings, and the only way to keep herself from hurting too much was to keep those wish-my-mom-was-here moments in a compartment called Don’t Go There.

  She went there.

  She couldn’t help it.

  Pierce was so deeply embedded in her heart—in her every breath. He was nestled up against the memory of her mother. She closed her eyes against fresh tears and felt his arms gather her close again. She breathed him in, feeling safe and loved—and like she needed to clear her stupid head before she ruined everything.

  “Babe,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Stay at your place if you need to. Do you want me to drive you over?”

  She shook her head and gripped his shirt so tightly she thought it might rip, but she couldn’t let go.

  He kissed the top of her head; then he pressed his big, safe hands to her cheeks and wiped her tears with his thumbs.

  “Hate me if you must, but I wish I could fix whatever’s making you so sad.”

  She laughed through her tears. He lowered his lips to hers, and her salty tears mixed with their kisses. She tried to kiss her heartache away, but it just made her feel like there was a deep well traveling down the center of her body and boring an ugly hole. She pushed away, breathing hard at the thought.

  “You know I love you, right?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Say it. Please. I need to know that you know I’m not walking out that door to break us up. I’m doing it to keep us together.” She knew she was overreacting. She had a feeling in her gut that her loathing of pity was a mask for something else, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what—and she knew she needed to before it ruined everything good in her life.

  He wiped her tears again, and the edges of his lips curved, just a little, like his smile was afraid to come forth. “I know you love me, Rebecca. But don’t ask me to pretend that I don’t want to beg you to stay. I can’t do that any more than I can pretend that I don’t want to pay off your debt, pay for your classes, and set you up with a job you’re worthy of, where you can learn and grow and make all your dreams come true.” He pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “All I can do is love you and trust that you know what you need, and hope that one day you’ll find what you need right here by my side.”

  PIERCE PACED HIS driveway long after Rebecca’s taillights disappeared. He was trying like hell to be understanding, but damn it, this sucked—and it fucking hurt. What was he supposed to do now? He was a man with the means to do just about anything, except look at the woman he loved in a way that showed her how much he loved her and couldn’t be misinterpreted as pity.

  He didn’t pity her.

  Damn it. He was sick of having his hands tied. Rebecca needed him to love her the way she deserved to be loved. He respected her pride—maybe too damn much—but didn’t she have to respect his, too?

  There was only one thing he could do, because there was no fucking way he was going to let their relationship hang in the wings while he was in LA.

  He went inside and set up the calendar Rebecca had picked out for him, and then he wrote the things he planned for the next few days and set an early alarm on his phone. If he could give his all to his business, he could give more than that to Rebecca—in ways she couldn’t help but love.

  He hoped.

  Damn, did he hope.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  REBECCA DRAGGED HERSELF out of bed Sunday morning with puffy bags under her eyes from crying most of the night and an ache in the center of her chest that felt like it had taken up residence. Exercising was the last thing she wanted to do, but she’d been here before—too overwrought to move. She knew that she could go down with the ship or right its course, and if she could make it through losing her mother, she could make it through pulling her head out
of her ass and getting around her stubborn force field against feeling pitied. Pitied. She couldn’t escape the feeling of a demon much bigger than pity gnawing at her insides and clawing to get out—and buried too deep for her to grasp and figure out.

  She forced herself to get out of bed, and she went into the kitchen and made coffee. While it brewed, she sat at the table and rested her head on her arms, struggling to try and understand what she was really feeling.

  “I thought I heard you come in last night.” Henry poured two mugs of coffee and placed one in front of Rebecca. “It’s only five thirty. What are you doing up?”

  “Going to the gym if I can convince my body to move.”

  “Mm. Bad night?” Henry sipped his coffee. His hair was disheveled, and he was wearing a blue robe with a white T-shirt and a pair of blue plaid pajama pants beneath.

  “Not really a bad night. I think I just have a bad head.” She sipped her coffee and grimaced at the pungent taste.

  Henry set his mug down on the table. “Nah, you have a fine head. Want to talk about it?”

  “No thanks, Henry. My head really isn’t fine right now.”

  “Getting it out of your head might help.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Just offering.”

  Rebecca sighed.

  “It’s okay, but I’m here if you want to talk.”

  Henry retrieved the newspaper from the porch and came back into the kitchen. He must have picked up his reading glasses from the living room, because the thin wire frames were now perched on his nose as he sat down and opened the newspaper to the Classifieds section.

  “Are you going to call Chiara?” Rebecca asked.

  “Already have. I left her a message right after Pierce gave me her number. She called back yesterday.” He lowered the newspaper. “I couldn’t believe it. On a Saturday. I guess when she heard I was referred by Pierce Braden, it put a jump in her step.”

  “Maybe.” His name puts a jump in my heart.

  “I have an interview with her tomorrow. She said they don’t have anything now, but they’re working on an acquisition, and if it comes through and my references pan out, yada yada.” He rolled his eyes. “Then they’ll need to hire in the accounting department. So I’m going in to get the ball rolling.”

  “That’s great, Henry. I hope that comes through for you.” She checked the time. “I better get to the gym.”

  Henry reached for her hand as she passed his chair on her way to the sink with her mug. “Rebecca, you have a good head on your shoulders. It’s when your heart and head begin to war that you have to worry.”

  She smiled, but it was a halfhearted smile at best. “My heart and head want the same things. I think the problem is that my head is stuck in survival mode, and my heart is ready to kick into first gear.”

  He squeezed her hand before releasing it. “Sweetheart, healing takes time. You should honor your head and your heart so they don’t both rebel.”

  Rebecca washed her mug, trying to figure out what that meant—or how she could even do such a thing.

  She grabbed her gym bag and her clothes for her workday and then headed out to her car. It was barely six o’clock and she felt like she’d slept two hours. She zipped her hoodie, rounded her shoulders against the chilly morning air, and tugged the door shut behind her. She lifted her eyes and her breath caught in her throat. Her legs refused to move.

  Pierce.

  Dressed in a dark suit and tie and wearing a smile that lifted the corners of his eyes, he stole what little breath she had left in her lungs. He came to her side and took her gym bag and clothes.

  “I’m not here to pressure you.” He settled a hand on the curve of her back and kissed her softly on the lips.

  “Why…? Why are you here?” With the help of his hand urging her forward, she remembered how to walk.

  “Because I love you.” He hung her clothing on the hook in the back of her car, set her gym bag on the seat, and then opened the car door for her.

  “You drove all this way to open my car door?” God, I love that.

  “No. I drove all this way to see you and open your car door.” He motioned her toward the car. “Go ahead and get in. I don’t want to mess up your morning schedule.”

  “How did you know what time I’d be leaving?”

  “I didn’t. I’ve been here for a while.”

  Oh God. Oh God.

  Rebecca settled into the driver’s seat, and he leaned in and kissed her again. He smelled so good. She couldn’t help but wrap her arms around him and keep him close.

  “I missed you last night,” she said against his lips.

  “I missed you, too.” He crouched beside her and placed his hand on her thigh. “What time do you get off work?”

  “Three.” The fact that he wasn’t even mentioning how her thinking was going made her love him even more.

  “My flight leaves at five.” He furrowed his brow; then he shook whatever he was thinking away and kissed her again.

  He rose to his feet, and Rebecca grabbed his hand.

  “Pierce—” The desperation in her voice startled her. She reminded herself he wasn’t leaving her by going to LA. He was doing what he needed to do for work. I’m the one who walked away.

  He flashed his easy smile that made her insides go soft—and she searched his eyes. Love. And a hint of…Stop. Just stop it.

  “Thank you. I’m going to miss you so much while you’re gone.” And hopefully figure out my shit so we can move forward.

  “I already miss you.”

  AT THREE O’CLOCK Pierce waited at the entrance to the restaurant for Rebecca. She’d looked exhausted this morning. He’d wanted so badly to ask her what was going on in that sharp mind of hers, but he’d promised himself he wouldn’t go there. He’d intended to greet her after she went to the gym, too, but she’d been so gracious about him just showing up at her house that he worried she’d think he didn’t trust her if he showed up at the gym, as well. He was trying his best to understand all the things that made Rebecca comfortable, and walking that thin line took all of his focus—because his nature was to show up at the gym, wait for her until after she got out, then show up at work and open her door again.

  Overkill.

  It had been part of who he was for so many years that it took a cognitive effort to restrain those urges. He knew that being too aggressive would push Rebecca away. But Pierce wasn’t successful for nothing. Finesse was another one of his skills, and he intended to use it. Rebecca had said that she saw something in his eyes, and he’d just have to keep showing her that what she saw was not pity, but the love he felt for her. He hoped if she saw it enough, she’d recognize it for what it was.

  He spotted her as she crossed the restaurant. She smiled as she passed the other waitstaff, but Pierce saw right through the smile to the pain that lay beneath, mixed and muddled with fatigue. Rebecca was nearly on top of him before she saw him.

  “Pierce.” The smile that spread across her lips this time was as real as the thundering of his heart.

  “Hi, babe.” He leaned in and kissed her.

  “I didn’t expect to see you. I thought you had to catch your flight this afternoon.”

  He draped an arm over her shoulder as they walked out of the building. “I do. I delayed it. I wanted to see you one last time before I went.”

  “Pierce, you can’t rearrange your schedule for me.”

  “I already did. Besides, you can tell me what I can and can’t do when it comes to helping you out in certain ways, but you can’t control everything I do where you’re concerned.”

  “Control? Is that what you think I’m trying to do?” She said it with a smile, but he heard a thread of irritation in her voice and felt her tense beneath his arm.

  “What would you call it?”

  “Doing for myself the things I should. Standing my ground. Keeping hold of a shred of my pride. This is who I am, Pierce. It’s who I was before I met you. My mom and I had no one to help us, and damn it, I held
us together, and I did it with pride.”

  Her voice was full of determination, but damn if he didn’t hear sadness lacing her words. He knew that saying so would only piss her off.

  “I’m not trying to take away from who you are and all that you’ve done, Bec. You’re amazing, and you’re more than capable of whatever you set out to do. I know that about you and I’m not trying to demean it in any way.”

  She was silent as they walked through the rotating doors of the resort. It reminded him of their first date, which brought his mind back to Rebecca sleeping in her car and pulled at his heartstrings.

  “Good, because you can’t.” Her tone softened a little. “No one can.”

  “Okay, fair enough.” He kissed her temple. “You’re a smart woman, and I know that you realize that everything you said, no matter what you call it, is all about remaining in control.”

  “It is not.”

  He let her stew with that thought while they walked through the parking garage to her car on the fourth floor. He kept his arm around her shoulder as they went in and out of the elevator, and she had yet to relax beneath his touch.

  When they reached her car, she turned to face him. Her eyes were no longer sad or angry. They were confused.

  “Control?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Why are you taking time to think, Rebecca?” So much for giving her the space she needed. He really did suck at giving up control as much as she did—they were quite a pair.

  “Because I need it.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, as if she were assessing her own thoughts.

  He closed the gap between them and spoke softly. “Think about it, babe. You’re used to doing everything. Controlling every aspect of your life, making sure you are doing the things you need to so you don’t end up someplace you don’t want to be. And you’re good at it.”

  “You do the same thing.”

  It was an accusation, and probably true. “Yes, but I admit I’m a control freak, and I’ve given up a lot of control to you. All I’m saying is that you didn’t get to tell me about staying in your car on your terms. Andy spilled the beans, and that left you feeling out of control.”

 

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