He nodded. That answered his questions. “Pumpkin-leek soup?”
“And a big glass of keefer.”
He couldn’t help it—he shuddered. “What is it with you and fermented drinks?”
“You drink wine and beer. And vodka. Same thing, just without the alcohol content.”
No, not the same thing at all. But he wasn’t going to argue the point with Chessie Gibson. A month ago he would have continued to push the point, to bug her until she shot him her Chessie Gibson Death Glare. He would have delighted in seeing how far he could go to get a rise out of her. But not anymore.
Not since he’d fallen in love with Chessie. Now, he wanted her to look at him with love in her eyes, not daggers.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” she asked, motioning to the package on his lap.
He shook his head. Not yet. Not with Chessie sitting by his side. Although, impatient beast that he was, he wanted to give it to her right now and reap the benefits.
But he’d wait until later, find the perfect moment. After all, it had taken all of twenty-four hours for the store to receive his order, package it up, and have it delivered. He could wait a few more hours to surprise Chessie.
“You’re so not like me,” she said, a smile playing about her face. “I’d be ripping into that box like it was nobody’s business if I were you.”
“But you’re not, and for that, I’m eternally grateful,” he answered, delighted by the relaxed expression she now wore.
All yesterday and today, Chessie had been walking around the house with a pinched look marring her beautiful features. She’d avoided him most of the day, refusing to even share meals with him, claiming she needed to focus on a deadline for her national launch. They’d had sex last night and this morning, but even then she had seemed distant, pensive. She let him kiss her, but there had been something almost haunting in the way she’d kissed.
Theo spent most of yesterday and today worried he might have said or done something to piss her off, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what it could have been. He thought about asking her if he’d upset her, but in the end avoided the question altogether.
It had to be what she’d said, that she was having difficulty meeting a deadline. He just hoped her mood wouldn’t affect the plans he had for tonight.
The scent of something delicious cooking caught his attention. His stomach growled, much to his embarrassment, but it amused Chessie. Her low laughter vibrated against his chest. He dipped his head to rest on hers.
“You didn’t get enough to eat at dinner?” she asked.
He pressed a light kiss to her brow. “I did. But whatever it is you’re baking smells so good it’s making my mouth water. I may electrocute myself by drooling on the keyboard.”
When Chessie let out another a low chuckle, a small zing shot through his chest. ‘I’m making a blackberry pie for my neighbors. Another peace offering.”
“Because the flowers worked oh so well?” Too late, he realized he should have kept that thought to himself. But damn, he hated how Chessie kept putting her heart on the line, as if just waiting for the punk-assed teenager Madison to trample it the way she’d trampled Chessie’s flowers.
“Ignore me, Chessie,” he said quickly. “You keep trying. Sooner or later, Madison will see you the way the rest of the world sees you. As the amazing and beautiful and giving person you are. But are you sure you have to give away the blackberry pie? We can’t eat it?”
She gave a light laugh. “I also made blackberry muffins. You can have those for breakfast, before I take you to the doctor’s.”
“Damn. Too bad it’s my last night here. Back to take-out and restaurants tomorrow. I’ll miss the home-cooked meals.” That wouldn’t be all he’d miss, but he’d save that topic for later. Anticipation buzzed inside him like a mosquito on crack.
Chessie sat motionless for a moment and then stood, facing him. He noticed the twitch near her eye, and a vein that pulsed at her throat. The twinkle in her hazel eyes had once again disappeared. She’d shut down again.
“I need to pull the sheets in from off the line and make the bed. I’ll be back in a bit.”
He didn’t want her to go. Not yet. But he also wasn’t ready to give her what was in the box. The moment wasn’t quite right.
They needed a connection. An emotional link between the two of them. Somehow there was a gigantic chasm between them and he didn’t know how it had come about. Only that he needed to close the gap. Bring her to him.
He reached over and cupped the back of her head with the palm of his hand. Slid his hand down her neck. Searched her wary eyes with his. Tension met his touch—resistance. And she wouldn’t look at him—oh, she held his gaze with hers, all right, but she wasn’t looking at him. Wasn’t seeing him.
Holding her head firmly in place, he came closer and placed his mouth on hers. He wanted to kiss her, gently, open her up a bit. Get her receptive to him. But the kiss took on a life of its own and the roar of blood through veins pounded loudly in his ears and his nostrils were filled completely with Chessie’s scent and all he could taste, touch, smell, hear, was Chessie.
Her hands tangled in his hair and she held his head in place, as he held hers, and plunged into the kiss, matching him in passion, in intensity, in…love?
Yes, he realized, Chessie Gibson loved him.
The thought shocked him and had him pulling back to stare at her, to caress her soft skin with the pad of his thumb, to seek the connection he knew was true in her expression. Of course he’d known Chessie loved him—he wouldn’t have bought her a symbol of his loyalty if he hadn’t believed she’d felt the same way.
But knowing she loved him at a rational level was far, far different than knowing she loved him at an intuitive level.
Knowing was different from believing.
And he now believed.
“Um…” Chessie bit her lip, then spoke again. “Um, I really need to get the sheets off the line, Theo. It’s about to rain.”
She turned and in a split second was gone, leaving Theo alone in the growing twilight, wondering about her sudden shift of mood.
The box dropped from his hand onto the porch, catching his attention. He bent forward and scooped it up, glad the casts were finally off his hands, eager to see what he’d bought. Whatever was eating at Chessie would easily be erased when she opened what was inside.
He waited until he heard her footsteps fade away until he began prying at the sealed seam of the package. In under a minute he managed to rip the seal open to reveal small box inside—a robin’s-egg blue box that fit neatly in his palm.
He tucked the little box in the deep pocket of his jeans, then tossed the box across the porch in the general direction of the wicker recycling basket. He hadn’t expected it to land anywhere near his target, and was surprised when he made the basket.
“He shoots, he scores,” he whispered under his breath. A smile worked its way across his face. Once Chessie caught sight of the box, he’d be scoring big-time tonight. And not in just a sexual way.
In a forever way.
* * *
Chessie couldn’t stop her body from shaking. She tugged the freshly laundered sheets into place and watched, detached, as her hands trembled. Her fingers were so weak she could barely grip the comforter. Oh god, she really didn’t want to spend the night with Theo tonight.
Not on his last night in her home, in her bed.
She needed the distance, needed the separation to begin before tomorrow. And she needed to initiate the separation, not have it forced on her. She needed that bit of control.
She plumped the pillow on her bed, the bed they’d been sharing since their second night together in this house. She grabbed the other pillow, his pillow, and brought it to her face, burying herself in its downy softness. Theo’s scent enveloped her, overwhelmed her.
The onslaught of emotion caused her knees to buckle and her chest to tighten. Tears welled up in her eyes, and before she coul
d gain control, she was silently sobbing, her tears wetting the soft cotton of Theo’s pillow.
Oh, god, this was getting ridiculous. She stomped her foot.
She had to pull herself together, had to get a grip. This was Theo’s last night here, and she wanted him to leave on a positive note. Dinner had been nice. Good conversation, great food. The evening had been comfortable, easy. Two friends preparing to say goodbye.
But when she started to get up to come into the house, saying she wanted to make the bed and she’d be right back, Theo had kissed her.
The kiss had come without warning. She’d had no chance to gird herself against the emotional upheaval the kiss had instigated. Instead of pulling back, she sank into it, matching his passion equally with hers. Almost as if of their own volition, her fingers had plunged into his silky hair to hold his head tightly to hers, refusing to let go even as her mind begged her to.
She would have drowned in that kiss if Theo hadn’t come up for air. He’d pulled back, slightly, just enough for her to see the image of herself mirrored in his eyes.
“Oh, god,” she’d whispered. In the mirror of his eyes, hers betrayed everything, speaking with a clarity words could never achieve.
She was a woman in love.
She snapped the sheet into place. “Damn it all to hell,” she swore out loud. Why was Theo, of all people, the one her stupid heart had picked to fall in love with? Perfect boy Theo, with his perfect world and perfect life.
A perfect life she would never fit into.
A place she’d never want to fit.
She marched over to the bay windows and shoved them open, willing the harsh night wind to brush any thoughts of love out of her mind. The wind ruffled the sheer drapes and filled the room, bringing with it the scent of rain. A storm was moving in, quickly, coming down from Alaska and across the Pacific Northwest, bringing with it an arctic chill. She leaned into the cold air, closed her eyes. She’d get through this—the feelings would fade, sooner or later.
She wasn’t alone in this, she knew. Theo had feelings for her, too. She could tell by the way he tracked her every move when he thought she wasn’t looking, how he always had an excuse to be touching her, how she was usually the topic of conversation when his friends called. But how deep those feelings ran, she didn’t know.
What she did know was that once Theo returned to his real life, he’d leave her far behind. Because she didn’t fit in his perfect rich-boy world. And she’d never want to, either. She wanted her home. Wanted Meadowview and its simplicity. Wanted to dig her hands in the rich earth and dribble water from the hose to wash the dust off her feet and pick a tomato off the vine and eat it right there, in the garden. She wanted to chat with Matilda and Ginny and Dottie and Gertie. Wanted to wear clothing she was drawn to—vintage and eclectic pieces that had meaning and made her smile.
She didn’t want to fit into a box.
And being part of Theo’s world would be exactly that—shoving her into a tiny little cube that would never fit her multiple pieces.
Outside, an owl hooted, riveting her attention to the sound, and shattering her focus on what could never be. Nighttime had descended—it was time to stop wallowing in misery and help Theo to bed.
Then say goodnight, and goodbye. She’d sleep in the guest room tonight. Alone.
Chessie stepped onto the porch, the squeak of the swing drowning out her footsteps. “It got really cold. Are you ready for me to help you inside?” she asked. She must have startled Theo, because he whipped his head up when she spoke. He’d been staring down at his lap, but now kept his eyes glued on her. She came across the painted wood planks to stand before him.
She stared. The diffused light coming from the outdoor space heater cast gentle shadows on his face. Under the light, the planes and angles of his cheekbones, jaw, and chin stood out more clearly.
His face would never be categorized as a rugged face, but its strong lines spoke of an inner strength. A strength she hadn’t ever been aware existed in Theo until a few weeks ago. A strength that pulled her in closer even as she tried to push away.
“Um, no, not quite ready to go in,” he said, dropping his gaze back down to his lap. She peered closely, but whatever he’d been looking at was now covered by his hand.
“Hey, uh, Chessie? Could you sit down for a moment?” he asked, his voice tight.
No, her mind whispered. Get him off to bed and leave him.
But as always, when it came to Theo, her body ignored her mind, and she found herself stepping toward the swing. “Sure,” she answered. She eased her way down to sit next to him. Her body automatically snuggled close to his. Theo swung his arm over her shoulders and she leaned back. She’d grown used to the feel of his arm behind her head. The hours they’d spent on this swing over the last few weeks had been many. Over time, they’d grown accustomed to one another’s presence and closeness. Now, what had once seemed foreign only felt natural.
But after tonight, it would be gone.
“There’s something I want to say to you before I leave here tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she responded slowly. Theo seemed different tonight. Less cocky, more serious, she thought. Solid. That was it, she realized. He seemed solid. Yet there was a hint of uncertainty about his voice, as if he wanted all his words to come out right.
“Chessie, you’ve always been there—I mean, ‘there’ as in being there for everyone, giving your time and energy, but also just…there. Like, in the background or something.”
She stiffened. Theo must have felt her energy shift because his speech grew rapid. “I don’t mean like some bland person who automatically fades into the background. I mean for me. I’ve never paid much attention to you throughout the years. You were Sadie’s friend and Jack’s little sister, and I teased the hell out of you when you were a kid, but you never had a place in my life besides being somewhere in the background.”
She didn’t take offense. She’d experienced the same thing with him. For most of her life, Theo had been Sadie’s conceited and perfect older brother, and nothing else. In fairness, though, he’d been fun, too, and had always been able to make her laugh, but he also had been a part of her background. Having him stay with her had changed all that for her. Was he trying to tell her it had changed for him, too?
Chessie cocked her head to the side, searching Theo’s face. He was staring straight ahead, out into the dark of the night, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance, his expression revealing nothing. His jaw clenched, twice, and Chessie felt her resolve melt.
She wanted to stroke his face, kiss his lips. When he swallowed, the simple movement of his throat made her chest expand, as if her heart wanted to leap from her chest and into his. Maybe she wouldn’t make herself sleep alone tonight.
Theo continued. “But I think you know that ever since my accident, you’ve come out of my background and are now are fully in the foreground, front and center.” Theo kept his eyes focused straight ahead, but toyed with whatever he had on his lap.
“Go on,” she said.
“The thing is, Chessie…” Theo sucked in a deep breath. He cleared his throat, which was unlike him. He seemed—huh. How odd. Theo Courant seemed nervous.
Chessie sat up straight. Whatever it was he wanted to say had to be big for him to be this off-center.
He let out a huff of breath. “What I’m trying to tell you is that I’ve fallen in love with you.” His words tumbled out, almost tripping over one another until he suddenly stopped speaking. Stopped breathing, too.
For a moment Chessie held her breath, as did Theo. The moment slipped into nothingness—a blank, dark vacuum of time. Sound and sight disappeared, then slowly came back, edging around the periphery of her awareness. Had Theo really just said he loved her? With a start, she realized he had. Theo Courant had declared his love. It dawned on her that he expected her to say something, to respond to what he had said. But what was she supposed to say? She didn’t want this—didn’t want him to love h
er.
She loved him, she knew she did, but there was no way the two of them could have a relationship. She didn’t fit in his world. He’d leave her.
Her mind went back to the blank, fuzzy, numb place. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Once again, Theo had rendered her speechless.
“Here, this is for you,” he said, handing her a box. A small box. A box in a particular shade of robin’s-egg blue. She knew where that box had come from. And she was pretty certain she knew what it contained.
“I can’t,” she whispered. Can’t what? she asked herself. Can’t open it? Can’t accept it? Can’t risk it? Her violently shaking hands almost dropped the box.
“Yeah, you can. Just open it.”
Her mind screamed at her to walk away. Nothing good could come of this. She had to give the box back.
But still, Theo had asked her to open it, and no matter what her mind said, as she’d learned over the last few weeks, her body obeyed Theo.
Her fingers shook as they worked against her will to pull the lid off. When a smaller black velvet box dropped into her hands, her fingers once again worked against her screaming mind. She pried it open.
A plethora of sparkles met her eye. A gigantic diamond, surrounded by florets and swirls of smaller diamonds, all in a platinum setting, greeted her with an obnoxious brilliance. It was an opulent, garish, gigantic display of wealth.
It was awful.
Theo had given her a ring perfect for a trophy wife. A perky, leggy, blond trophy wife who did nothing but go to the country club and ogle cabana boys.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” She didn’t want to speak, but the words stormed their way out of her mouth.
Next to her, Theo sat up straighter. “Um, it’s a ring. You’re supposed to wear it.”
“But why?”
“Because I’m asking you to marry me.” His voice sounded far away.
She shook her head. He couldn’t be proposing. He shouldn’t be proposing. It wouldn’t work. As soon as he realized how much she didn’t fit into his world, he’d leave.
Tempting the One (Meadowview Heat 4; The Meadowview 4) Page 14