Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
ROMILLY
My heart screams at me as I stare up at Bash.
His face is still close, and all I want to do is lean back in, feel the press of his lips on mine for the next hour.
But that would be dangerous. Actually, things have already gotten dangerous, because no matter how hard I try, fighting my feelings for him isn’t working anymore.
I’m trusting you, Lord. I’m giving this a chance.
Bash aligns my gaze to his with his hand by lifting my chin. He taunts me with a half smile. “I really hope you’re not regretting that kiss, because your lips are like a dream I never want to wake up from.”
My chest expands at his undeniable charm. “You and your smooth words. I have to admit, sometimes when you say stuff like that to me, I get worried you’re just trying to play me.” I pull away, breaking our eye contact.
The humor vanishes from his voice. “Come on. You have to know I wouldn’t do that.”
“I want to believe that.”
He takes my hand. “Romilly, I’ve never even wanted a serious relationship before. Not until I met you.”
“And you want one now, with me?”
He grins. “Yes. Very , very much.”
I ignore the storm of flutters that attack me and steady my gaze at him. “Okay, listen, because you need to understand. I want to be with you too, Bash. But I have no intentions of sleeping with you. I’d want us to be married first.”
He nods. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Hope rises in my chest. I expected him to at least be disappointed.
“Yes. Okay.” He gently grazes my cheek with his thumb. “Do you know how good it feels to hear you admit you want to be with me? I feel like I’m flying. But I have to say, it’s really hard to keep my thoughts in check when you’re sitting here looking this way in your jim-jams.”
“Jim-jams?” I cover my laugh with my hand. “That’s pretty cute.”
“You’re pretty cute.” He tugs me closer to him.When he speaks again, all traces of humor are gone. “I mean it though. You don’t have to worry about me pressuring you or anything like that. I’m in this for the long haul. I just want you.”
I can’t help but smile. “Do you know how good it feels to hear you say that ?”
“You should already know,” he says. “But I’ve been so scared of pushing you away by coming on too strong. I haven’t told you how much you mean to me Romilly, or how much I love you.”
The butterflies in my stomach triple. He loves me? It feels too good to be true. I shake my head in disbelief. “No. You’re not supposed to do that.”
“I know.”
“That just makes everything more complicated.”
He sighs. “I know. ”
The silence between us stretches. I swallow hard against the burning in my throat, caught between the urge to tell him how much I love him too, how much he means to me. But before I can, he kisses me again. It’s such a soft, brief kiss, but it unwinds all my thoughts just the same.
“By the way, if I win, I’m going to help you keep your shop afloat with whatever money I make.”
My mouth falls open. “Bash, no. You’re going to need that to live on.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll still be working for you. But even when I’m making enough to stop, I’m going to help you with the dogs when you need it. Even if I’m not working for you officially.”
I shake my head. “No. I can’t accept any of that.”
We both glare at each other in silence for a moment before he speaks again. “This is what happens when Bash falls in love with Romilly. He takes care of her. So you better get used to it.”
I sigh. “Can I think about all this? That’s a lot to take in.”
“Yes.” The slow grin that spreads across his lips makes my toes curl. “Think about it all you want.”
I giggle. “That doesn’t mean I’m saying yes, you know.”
“I know. But you will.”
I cross my arms. “Don’t be so cocky. You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?”
“Because I won’t let you say no, pumpkin. Hate to break it to you.”
My entire face burns. I give him one more final kiss before getting back on the bed. I want to say something, anything, to that. But all my words stick in my throat.
He throws one arm over his eyes. “Goodnight.”
“Why are you hiding your face?”
“Like I said before, those Jim-jams make it really hard to think straight.”
I try not to laugh as I sink back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. “I, uh, appreciate the effort. Goodnight.”
The next morning, I emerge from the bathroom in the emerald dress and wool tights I promised Zara I would wear. I was so tempted to slip on my usual flare jeans and a trendy top, but remembering her excitement made me feel guilty for considering it.
When Bash sees me, he groans and closes his eyes so tight, the lids crinkle. “Are you trying to kill me?”
I laugh. “No. You’re trying to kill you in that ring today.” My stomach tightens at the thought of him getting hit by his opponent, Connor Stronghold.
Bash takes my hand and tugs me to his chest. Wrapping his thick arms around me, he buries his face in my hair. “The only way I’d die in that ring is from getting too distracted imagining you in this dress.”
“I can go change.”
“Don’t you dare. In fact, don’t ever take this dress off again unless it’s to get back into those adorable Jim-jams.”
I giggle. “Okay, enough with the Jim-jams.”
Bash cups my face with his hands. It does things to my heart. “Please don’t worry about me today. Because then I’ll worry about you.”
“Well, don’t. Between the two of us, I’ll be perfectly unscathed.”
“Believe it or not, pumpkin, I intend to leave unscathed, too.”
We check out of the inn together and book a driver to take us to the mechanic where his car is waiting. The shop’s parking lot smells like oil and rubber, and the morning air carries a crisp bite. I’m still reeling from last night.
Bash told me he loves me. Bash told me he’s going to stick around The Paw Spa. Bash told me he wants to use his winnings to help me.
I should have told him I love him, too, but I wasn’t ready. I was too scared deep down. Because the last time I told a man I loved him, he left.
God, help me not to be afraid anymore.
The mechanic hands Bash a clipboard to sign. When he’s finished, he opens the car door for me, letting his hand linger on the small of my back.
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
I slide into my seat, and he gets in, too. Somehow, the tension between us has expanded into something that feels tangible. I know he’s thinking about our conversation, our kiss, but I still don’t know how to bring it up.
After his fight, Romilly. Just wait until all this is over. Then you can tell him you love him.
The soft rumble of the engine vibrates through the car, filling the space between us. My gaze drifts to his hands on the steering wheel, the strong, capable way his fingers curl around it, and I swallow hard when his right hand drops down to wind through my left one.
“Did you sleep alright?” he asks in the soft voice I’ve only ever heard him use with me. As always, it makes my stomach flip.
“Not really.”
“Me either. I’m too wired for today.” He pulls into the gas station just down the road and cuts the engine. “And I’m in desperate need of caffeine. What would you like?”
“I’m good.”
He sighs. “Please name something so I don’t have to pick it for you.”
“Fine. I’ll have a muffin.”
That seems to satisfy him. Bash makes for the convenience store, and when he returns, he has two coffees and a paper bag in hand.
“They didn’t have muffins, but these looked good.
” He passes me an apple cider donut along with a coffee, and his fingers brush mine briefly. The contact sends heat through me.
“Thanks.” I take the cup and pastry. But I already know I’m not going to drink the coffee. He may think he’s wired, but imagining him fighting today makes so much anxiety spiral through me, I can’t see straight.
When we arrive in Boston, Bash parks at the arena. The lot is already filling up with cars, and the evening air is sharp and cool, carrying the faint smell of coffee and dry leaves.
Bash takes my hand when we step inside. He leans down to murmur in my ear, “It’s crowded in there. I don’t want us to get separated.” He rubs my hand gently, and my body melts in reaction.
The sound of cheers, conversations, and the booming of loud music and announcers swells around us.
Bash releases me briefly to check in with his agent and the event organizers.
I linger near the edge of the room while I wait.
In just a little bit, he’ll be fighting.
He’ll be getting punched, tackled, and kicked. Hard .
I try to steady my nerves at the image of it all, but it feels impossible. I’m not even the one stepping into the ring, but it feels like getting punched in the gut knowing Bash might get hurt.
“Hey,” Bash says, reappearing at my side. He fidgets with the spinner in his hand, and his jaw is tightly clenched. “I’ve got to go get ready. You good?”
“Of course. I’ll go find my seat. And…you got this.” I reach out, lightly touching his arm. “Whether or not you win, I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you.” His gaze lingers on mine a moment too long, like he wants to say something. “Would you…would you pray for me?”
Something in my chest cracks a little. “Of course. Come here.”
Bash shuts his eyes and takes both of my hands in his. I whisper a soft prayer between us, only loud enough for us to hear. I ask God to protect Bash and to give him enough faith to carry him through this fight. And when we break apart, Bash shoulders seem to loosen.
“Thank you.”
“You got this. Now, go.”
He swallows hard and kisses my forehead before he steps away.
I watch his broad shoulders cut through the crowd as he heads toward the locker rooms. My chest tightens as I lose sight of him, so I go find my seat.
It’s right up front. I can see the ring perfectly, and the crowd around me is so lively.
People are already chanting random names of fighters I don’t recognize, and I even hear Bash’s name thrown around a few times.
I try not to let my nerves for him consume me as I settle into my seat.