Off Kilter

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Off Kilter Page 27

by Donna Kauffman


  “You couldn’t do what ye do without one. You know that now. It’s why your work hurts so much, and tortures you so.” He stroked her cheek, her hair, her forehead, all the while staring deeply into her eyes, searching. “I know your night terrors won’t stop all at once. But that doesn’t mean you can’t start letting your heart feel for all the good reasons, the healthy, happy reasons. Even if it’s no’ me, you need to let—”

  “It’s you,” she said. “It’s yours. Whatever part is under my control, anyway. You’re …” She couldn’t finish. When she saw his eyes glass over, she thought she would never find words again. But they came, in a torrent. “I could hurt you, and I won’t mean to. I don’t react well to … any of this. My instincts are so strong to pull away and I … the very last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you. You need to be with someone who can love you, the way you so deserve to be loved. I—you’re everything any woman would want. You’re everything I could want.”

  “Then take me,” he said, his voice a choked whisper.

  “Why me?” she pleaded, needing to understand. “You just up and decide it’s me. Couldn’t you just up and decide it’s not? When I get to be too much, make it too hard.”

  “You fulfill me. You challenge me. You make me laugh. You engage me on every single level I have, and many more I didn’t even know existed. Your heart, your dedication, your passion. Your need to shed light on the hard parts of the world, while doing your damnedest to ignore that they’re killing you. Your very difference from everyone I’ve ever known is precisely what compels me. I didn’t know that, couldn’t have known that, until I met you. But I have now. And you’re it for me. You’re it. Your past, everything that has shaped you, intrigues and fascinates the hell out of me. The pain, the darkness scare me, and make me angry. I don’t want that for you, but I can’t make it just go away. I can’t wave a wand and fix it. But you’re a million other things besides the dark parts. I won’t be perfect in handling all of it, but as long as we both understand that and are willing to work at it … don’t we get to at least try?”

  “And if we fail?”

  “We know we reached. We know we let ourselves want. We took the risk.”

  “Maybe I can’t take any more of those. Maybe I need safe. And secure.”

  “Do you want to be alone? Truly, Tessa? Because if you want anything, or anyone, in your life, then it’s a risk you’re going to have to take.”

  She dipped her chin, feeling suddenly weary. Down to her soul weary. She didn’t want it to be so hard, not for him, and not for herself. She realized she was the large part, the only part, of why it was so challenging. “I’m trying to do the right thing, find the right path,” she said, continuing the thought out loud. “I will take risks again. I don’t know that I was ready to take them quite yet. I’m just starting to figure out who I am, what part of me I can get a grip on and take forward from here. I don’t know that it’s fair to me, but even more so, to you, to think I can handle a new career and a relationship, too. It feels inordinately selfish to take the risk, to jump right now. I need time. I wanted time.”

  “So … are you asking me to wait? Until you’re ready?”

  Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. What was she asking? “I-I’m making a mess of this. I can’t think, I—this has been … a lot. Today. Has been a lot.”

  “Yes, it has. Back at the cliffs, I was so worried for you. But then I realized how strong you are. It’s the core of you, your strength. You’re bringing it to bear on your current situation and I have absolutely no doubt you’ll persevere and win, because you won’t rest until you do. That’s why you tracked down every doctor and treatment there was. You didn’t curl up and die. You fought back. You fought for your life. For yourself. That’s who you are. You’d fight for this, too, for me. I have no doubts. You could make a mess of it, but I know you’ll do your best not to. I wouldn’t ask for anything more of you than that. But you ask a lot more of yourself than I do.”

  He leaned down and kissed her, and there was so much meaning in his touch, she wasn’t sure what to do with it all. It scared her. Just as strongly, it made her want to leap. To say the hell with all her fears and worries.

  Then he eased away from her. Fully—until he sat on the side of the bed. “My instinct, because I want you to be part of my life, is to give you whatever you want. Wait for you? Fine. Till the end of time? No problem. I’ve got nothing but time to give. I want you. So, waiting? I can do. Seems a small, easy price. Hell, I’ve waited this long. But Tessa …” He stopped, looked away. He braced his hands on his knees, and she saw his shoulders tense, then slump a little. Broad shoulders, shoulders that were willing to take on all of her burdens, all of her pain.

  Her heart, which she was just discovering the depths and breadths of … started breaking.

  “Now is the time we’ve been given. We didn’t get to pick, we didn’t get to choose. But we can choose to take what’s in front of us now, because now is when we have it … or we can toss it aside, walk away from it. Life is never neat and tidy, never perfect. If you want to work your way toward me, then I’ll be here for you—whenever you get here. But if you’re waiting for everything to be perfect … that’s never going to happen.”

  “I want to be whole,” she said, her voice a rasp. “I want to give myself to you, I do, but … as a whole person. Let me finish figuring that out.”

  He looked back over his shoulder. “Doing it on your own is what got you where you are now.”

  She flinched, but she knew he was speaking the truth.

  “You don’t have to go off alone to do this, to feel like you’re only worth it if you have everything all polished and perfect. I’m not asking for polished and I sure as hell am not perfect. So I don’t expect you to be. Tessa, I can’t make you believe you’re a worthwhile person. Just know that you are to me.” He stood and pulled on his pants, then turned to face her. And he looked … hurt. “I want, and am ready to accept, the whole person you are right now. But I’d also like to know that you respect that I’m man enough to handle your problems. To handle you. Do you really think you’re beyond my scope? Or that I’m just too stupid in love to realize what I’m asking for?”

  She gaped. “I never meant—that’s not at all what I was saying!”

  “Then what are you saying, Tessa? Think about that, while you’re working things out.” He leaned down and picked up his shirt and shrugged it on. He walked to the door, then paused, sighed, and swore under his breath. His shoulders slumped.

  “I’m … sorry. Very, very sorry. I’m not handling this at all like I want to. I’m not finding all the right words.” He looked back. “I’m stumbling. I’m not trying to say hurtful things. I just … I’m angry and frustrated and I want what I want, too.

  “So … for the sake of not making a bad situation worse, I’m going to take a hike. Literally. Clear my head and stop pounding on ye. I don’t know what ye need, that’s clear enough. So, I’ll leave you to sort it out. Make yourself at home, or take the lorry back to Kira’s. I’ll get it later on. I’ll be gone for at least several hours.” He turned to look at her directly. “But dinnae mistake this for running. Or quitting.

  “I want you. I want to fall all the rest of the way in love with you. I want to fall in love with you for the rest of our lives. I think that’s how long it would take, and the journey would be nothing but a grand and glorious adventure, each step of the way. I know your life wouldn’t be here, not fully. So don’t think small. And I won’t either.

  “For now, you’re demanding space. So … now ye have it. All that ye need. I’m no’ going anywhere, Tessa, but I’ll leave ye be. When ye’ve figured things out … let me know.”

  And with that, he was gone.

  A moment later, she flinched—hard—as she heard the front door shut.

  She sat there … dry eyed and hollow-hearted and wondered what in the hell she’d been thinking, pushing him away. No, shoving him away, and tossing his big
heart and perfect, giving soul right after it.

  He’d been gone less than a minute, but the void felt like a gaping chasm. Both around her … and inside her. She felt fully and completely alone. With nothing but more of the same, staring her in the face.

  “Well … you got what you asked for, didn’t you, then? You idiot.”

  But she did not leap right to believing that his abrupt departure was exactly the proof she needed that she’d been right all along about her inability to have, much less keep a relationship. That was what the old, righteously wounded Tessa would have done. The new Tessa, the Tessa who’d found herself falling in love, the Tessa who had a man in her life—a wonderful, loving, strong, supportive man—who was and would be the best damn thing that would or could ever happen to her … that Tessa rolled herself out of bed, yanked on her clothes, jerked the tight knot of her selfish, self-centered attitude straight out of her scared ass.

  And went after him.

  Chapter 20

  The next time he decided to take a stand, then make a declarative exit, he might want to plan things out a wee bit better first. Like … hiking, for instance. It was generally smarter, not to mention easier to see the trail, when the sun wasn’t hitting the horizon at the beginning of the trek. Also, it was generally considered to be a more productive pastime when it wasn’t raining.

  Although he did admit the foul weather suited his mood.

  It was rare, exceedingly rare, for him to be provoked to the point that he lost his cool and spouted off without thinking through what he really wanted to say. He was just … well, he was scared.

  There, he’d admitted it. Weren’t they a pair?

  He wanted things to go the way he wanted them to go, and, more often than not, they did. And everyone was happy. So, naturally, he’d been convinced that if Tessa just listened to him, she’d be happy. It was hard, not to mention humbling, to realize that he didn’t know bloody bollocking crap about what she needed to be happy. He only knew what he needed. He needed her.

  He wished he could start their conversation over again, that whole scene after she’d woken up from experiencing another terror. Of course it had freaked her out, of course she’d been mortified that she’d had one while with him. And not just any time with him … her first time with him. And this after—after—her major breakthrough and breakdown out by the cliffs.

  Aye. So, the very next thing she needed was him lecturing her on what she should do to make him happy. Because, after all, the world did revolve around him. There in his little world, anyway.

  Of course she’d immediately wanted to extract herself from the situation. She didn’t know him well enough to turn to him, and most definitely not instinctively. Yes, she had tried to protect him, even while in the throes of her nightmare. But did he have to take that and shove it at her, then crow about how it was proof that what he’d been telling her was true?

  “You’re such a bloody stupid arse,” he muttered, stopping at the end of the lengthy stacked stone wall that separated his property—and his sheep—from the rest on the other side of the boundary line. He really had no desire to climb up the muddy, slippery trail just beyond the wall. Given how things were going at the moment, he’d likely fall and break his idiot arse and his idiot head.

  He turned and looked back at the house. In the gathering gloom and mists of pelting rain, he couldn’t see his lorry, but he’d have heard the engine—which meant she was still there. In his home. In his bed.

  And he was not. No, he was out there stomping about in the rain.

  “Because I’m the farklin’ genius.” He turned back toward the house, hoping like hell that between where he was and his front door, he came up with the right thing to say to make her stay long enough for the two of them to hash it out.

  He was so intent on his mission he rounded the near corner of the stacked stone wall and all but plowed right into her. She grabbed at his arms to keep from slipping and falling, and he tugged her up against him to keep them both from going backward over the wall.

  “Roan, I—”

  “Tessa, I’m sorry. I’m a blithering idiot and you have every right to toss me. You’ve been through so much and I had no right—”

  She shoved at him. “Don’t you dare go making excuses for me. I have no excuses.”

  “I just wish you’d give us—what?”

  “It’s not like I haven’t been handling this with professionals for almost a year now. I know what the hell is wrong with me, and I know better than to take it out on you. Or anyone. You’re right. I am strong. I can get through this. I can and will move on. In fact, the stories I think I want to tell aren’t just going to be good, they’re going to be bloody brilliant.”

  “Damn right,” he said, completely at a loss. Was she mad at him, or herself?

  “Do you know what’s really mortifying for me?” she demanded so heatedly he thought it best not to offer an answer. “Not the tears I shed earlier today. You were right. I should have shed them long ago. No … what is mortifying for me is the fact that I’ve been using this trauma like a crutch. I’ve been using it like a get-out-of-anything-Tessa-doesn’t-want-to-deal-with-free card. That’s what’s mortifying. I’d like to think I’m better than that. Apparently I’m not even close.”

  “Tessa—”

  “You’re the wise one, you’re the one with all the amazing insights. You should hang out a shingle, because you’ve made me understand and see parts of myself so much more clearly than I ever had or could. And as previously mentioned, not all of those parts are all that lovely. But … that’s good to know. I need to know. So”—she paused, dipping her chin for just a brief moment, the length of time it took her to take in a deep breath, steady herself, before looking him straight in the eye—“if you’re not thoroughly disgusted with me wigging out on a semi-regular basis—with the added caveat that I’m working on it, but I’m sure I will be a work in progress for some time—I was wondering if you’d ever consider playing dragon and dragonslayer with me again.”

  “Of course, I wo—What?” He broke off as that last part filtered through. He hadn’t expected … humor. He could see that she was shaking, and he didn’t think it was the rain.

  “Because I want to play. And it’s more fun with another person. You taught me that. Okay, you taught me both of those things, the playing part and the two-are-better-than-one part. I want to flirt with you. I want to laugh with you. I want to be happy and take it totally for granted some of the time, because I’ve gotten that used to it. I want joy to be my default position. I want—” She took a breath, and smiled. Boldly. Bravely. “I want you. I want you, now.”

  She stood there for several seconds and he knew it felt like eternity. He already knew the answer, but he was momentarily in awe of her. She kept thinking he was the one with the strength and fortitude. But, frankly, he had a foundation of bedrock underneath him … she had one of shaky toothpicks. At best. And yet, there she was, finding the will, and the way, to go after what she wanted.

  So he said, “If you’re always willing to fight as hard for us as you are right now, then I’d be an idiot to say no, wouldn’t I?”

  “Yes, you would. Total idiot. Fool is the word that comes to mind. Short-sighted. And lacking in vision.”

  She was fidgeting. Giving him a good go, but fidgeting. Nervous and scared … but putting herself out there nonetheless. That was a woman he could love. That was the woman he did love. “Well, I’d like to think I’m no’ an idiot. At least not in total. Occasionally I will be. You should know that. I’ve never been accused of lacking vision, though, so there is that. In fact, I even fancy myself a visionary.”

  “Well, then,” she said, but trailed off as he kept her waiting.

  “Well, then indeed.” It wasn’t the nicest thing he’d ever done, but one thing with Tessa was that he was going to have to keep her on her toes and not just capitulate on every point, even if he wanted to. He had to man up on occasion if he had a hope in hell of not
becoming a completely besotted doormat—which might have its benefits. But he had some pride, didn’t he? “Okay,” he said, at length.

  Hope sprang into her eyes, and joy leapt into his heart so hard he thought he heard it knock. All he knew was that it was a sight he planned on seeing many, many times.

  “Okay.” she repeated.

  “On one condition.”

  “Only one?” she asked, a dry note edging into her voice, but there was such a glittering sparkle in her eyes, he was pretty sure the one being tortured by stringing it out, was him. It was a fine line he’d be walking with her. He rather relished figuring that part out. “One main one,” he said.

  “Besides fighting for us as hard as I’m doing right now one?”

  He grinned. She was never, not ever, going to make it easy on him. Thank God. “Well, it’s in tandem with that, really.”

  “Does it have to do with learning to cook?”

  He frowned. “No.”

  “Gardening?”

  “No’ unless you want to.”

  “Sheering sheep? I love their little black faces, but I don’t think I have the heart to strip them naked.” She shrugged, folded her arms. “There, I’ve said it.”

  “Sheep face weakness,” he said. “Taken under advisement.”

  “I can do laundry. And I’m not a slob.”

  “So noted.”

  Her expression smoothed, and she smiled. “Okay, then. Stipulate away.”

  “I want us to show each other our respective worlds, share them, as best we can.”

  She frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Teach you photography? And I’ll … what, learn to weave a basket?”

  He smiled, then shook his head. “No, though that might be worth the trade. I could enlist Kira’s help in training us both. Then we could weave together each eve, as the sun goes down.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Then you could show me around the dark room. Or, you know, we could just play with blindfolds.”

 

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