Chapter 31
thirty-one
. . .
Bridger
Her fingers moved through my hair as my head rested on her lap.
“I’m not having sex with you, Bridger,” she whispered.
I looked up. “But you’ll stay?”
“I’ll stay.” The corners of her lips turned up, and her smile reached her eyes this time. “And we can finish this conversation tomorrow, when you’re sober.”
“It’ll be the same, Emilia. I don’t know what I have to offer, but it’s more than what we originally agreed on.”
She narrowed her gaze. “So you enjoyed having sex with me in Paris and now you want to do it in Rosewood River?” She rolled her eyes.
“No.” I looked up at her, wanting her to see that I was being genuine. “I mean, yes, I’d like to have sex with you in Rosewood River. But that’s not what this is about.”
“What is this about?”
“I like you, Emilia. I like you a lot.” I exhaled sharply. “And I don’t like most people. But I’m not a relationship guy, so I’m most likely going to fuck it up. But I’d like to try. Even if it’s just temporary. I’d like to—” I couldn’t believe I was actually saying this aloud. “Date you.”
“You want to date me?”
“Yes.”
“Well, no one knows how things will work out anytime they date, because they can’t see the future. So why do you have to make it so complicated?” She shrugged.
“Because I know my strengths, and relationships are not one of them. So I’ve been trying really fucking hard to shake this off, because I know this will end poorly.”
“This is quite possibly the worst ‘I want to date you’ speech.” She chuckled. “So why even go there?”
“Because I can’t not go there,” I admitted. Because it was the damn truth. I’d been trying, and it wasn’t working. “I can’t stop thinking about you. So I’d rather try and fail than not try at all.”
My fear of hurting the people I cared about was real, and I knew it was safer not to go there.
Yet here I was.
“Well, you don’t make it sound very promising,” she said.
“I just want you to know what you’re getting into. I’m just being honest with you.”
“I know what I’m getting into, Bridger. And I’m still here,” she said, and I could see the fear in her eyes. She had every reason to be nervous. This would most likely blow up in both of our faces.
“Do you want to date me, angel?”
Her head tipped back with a laugh. “I mean, you’ve made it sound near impossible, but—” She shook her head, and I could see the hesitation.
“Tell me.”
“I like you, too, Bridger Chadwick. I like you a lot. It’s been hard since we’ve been back in Rosewood River, pretending that I don’t have feelings for you.”
“Yeah? I heard that Paris Guy really rocked your world.” I smirked. “And I also heard you went on a date last night, and that pissed me the hell off.”
“You can’t be pissed off when you said that we were done when we returned home. That was your call.” She gave me a pointed look. “But for the record, it was a horrible date.”
“Good. If we’re going to try this, then there is no dating other people. I don’t share, angel.”
“That rule works both ways.”
“Not a problem,” I said, pushing to stand, and then scooping her up into my arms. “I only want you. At least until you realize it’s a terrible idea.”
“Wow. You really make dating you sound so appealing,” she said, making no attempt to hide her sarcasm.
I carried her down the hall and set her down on my bed before leaning over her and placing one arm on each side of her, caging her in. “You’re the first woman to sleep in this bed.”
She chuckled, a wide grin spreading across her beautiful face. “You say it like it’s a badge of honor. But I’m still not having sex with you. Not tonight. Not until we talk about this when you’re sober.”
“I don’t care about that. I just want you in my bed, next to me,” I said, because I meant it.
Her eyes welled with emotion, and she nodded. “I need to borrow a T-shirt to sleep in.”
“You won’t sleep naked? I want to feel you against me.” I’d never craved a woman the way I craved Emilia Taylor. The way everything just felt better when she was near me.
She arched a brow. “T-shirt or the deal’s off.”
I moved to the dresser, pulled out a white cotton tee, and handed it to her, then slipped my jeans off, along with my sweater, and tossed them both on the chair. Her eyes widened as she took me in, and I followed her line of sight down to the tent in my briefs.
“It’s yours if you want it,” I teased, and her cheeks flushed pink.
“Let’s see how you feel tomorrow.” She walked past me and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
I understood her reasons for being unsure about my intentions. Hell, I knew this was a mistake. I knew I’d fuck it up.
I climbed into bed, my buzz still there but definitely starting to wear off.
The bathroom door opened, and Emilia walked out in my shirt, which hung down to her knees. Her gaze locked with mine, and she hopped up on the bed and moved beneath the sheets. I turned to look at her, and my chest squeezed.
My fucking chest squeezed because Emilia Taylor was in my bed.
I’d asked her to stay, and she’d stayed.
And I liked it.
“I see those wheels turning, Chadwick. Go to sleep.”
I turned and winked at her before raising my arms and clapping my hands together twice to signal the lights to turn off.
Emilia broke out in a fit of giggles beside me just as the room went dark.
“Did you just clap your lights off?” She rolled on her side to face me, and I moved closer to her.
I craved her warmth in a way I couldn’t wrap my head around.
“I did. It’s a fabulous invention.”
Her hand moved to my face, her fingers fluttering along the edge of my jaw, and my breathing slowed.
“Did you go to the cemetery today?” she whispered.
“Yes. We normally stay longer, but with it snowing so hard, we just paid our respects and left.”
“She must be so proud of you and the man that you’ve grown into,” she said, her words startling me.
“Well, she’s not here, so I highly doubt that.”
“She’s looking down on you, Bridger. And I bet she’s smiling so big. Look at all you’ve accomplished. You’ve built this successful software company, you’ve traveled the world, and you love your family fiercely.”
I was quiet as I processed her words. “She lost her life bringing me into the world. I was a bad idea before I even entered the world.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say about the guy I just agreed to date,” she said, her words laced with humor. “Did you know three hundred thousand women die a year from either pregnancy or childbirth? Do you really think innocent babies are to blame?”
She’d clearly done her research and was determined to make her point.
“Of course not.”
“Oh, so it’s only you who should be held responsible?”
“Obviously I had no control over what happened. But at the end of the day, my birth caused a lot of pain to a lot of people. That’s a fact, angel.”
Her leg slipped between mine, and I ran my fingers through her long, silky hair.
“Your father was an addict. He made a choice, and there were consequences to that choice. And you made a choice to do big, amazing things with your life, and I am just one of many who are grateful for your birth, Bridger.”
Her words were a salve to my damaged soul.
“I told you, I prefer you to call me ‘lover boy,’” I said, trying to lighten the moment.
“I would have guessed you to frown upon a silly nickname.”
“Normally I do,” I admitted.
“But this one doesn’t bother you?” she chuckled.
“Everything is different with you.”
Her head settled beneath my chin, her cheek against my chest.
“I remember the first time I was impressed by you,” she said, her voice low and soft.
I didn’t speak, I just waited.
“We were in second grade. Jerry White stole my brownie out of my lunch box. And it shouldn’t have been a big deal, but trust me when I tell you, I didn’t get treats in my lunch box often because my mom was highly against sweets, as she really didn’t like anything that brought joy to children.
” She chuckled against my chest, and I wrapped her up a little tighter.
“I thought moms were supposed to be sweet?” I said. My voice had an edge to it because I didn’t like the way her mother treated her at all.
“Well, they aren’t all sweet, but I guess she did her best.” She sighed. “Anyway, he snatched my treat and took a big ole bite of it and smiled at me.”
A brief memory of this day flashed through my mind. It was the first time I’d been sent to the principal’s office, which turned into quite the regular pattern for me moving forward, so I barely remembered it.
“What did you do?”
“Well, if you recall, I was very small compared to the other kids, and Jerry was a big kid. So what could I do? I didn’t want to be a snitch.
I remember trying hard not to cry, and then you came out of nowhere.
You pushed him off the lunch table bench, and he fell on the ground.
You told him if he ever messed with me again, you’d flush his head in the toilet in the boys’ bathroom. ”
“Ahhh… I was charming even at a young age.”
“You got sent home from school that day,” she whispered.
“First of many, angel.”
“I think my crush started that day,” she said, pressing her lips to my chest, where my heart pounded beneath her kiss.
“Did Jerry ever mess with you again?” I asked, because I hated that little fucker.
“He never did.”
“Good. Then it was worth it.”
The room was dark, and we both grew quiet, lying there wrapped around one another.
“Happy birthday, lover boy.”
I smiled that she’d finally said it again.
“Thank you.”
“I hope you had a good one,” she whispered.
I realized in that moment it was the first time I could remember falling asleep on my birthday and not wishing the day didn’t exist.
And that was all because of her.
My angel.