Chapter 10 #3
He was. Because kissing her was not supposed to scare her.
That hadn’t been his intent at all. But he couldn’t regret that he’d done it, because if she did sleep with Dalton this weekend, then she was going to have what had happened between them to compare it to, and he had the feeling that Dalton wouldn’t stack up favorably.
“It’s about me. It’s … it’s not about you.”
That was … one of the more lowering things a woman had ever said to him. That her reaction to his kiss wasn’t about him.
“You didn’t need to come up,” he said. “I’m honestly not mad.”
“Right. Well. That’s good. But …”
“You want him?”
“I always have.”
“Why?”
“Because I … When I came here, I didn’t have any concept of security.
I didn’t have any concept of family. My mother dropped me off and left me, and the idea that my brothers might do the same was …
It kept me up at night. If my mother, who gave birth to me and raised me, would just …
leave me at the top of a mountain on Christmas, why wouldn’t they?
They never did anything to make me question them, but I still felt so afraid.
Because how can you ever trust anyone again?
But they taught me to trust again. And eventually I forgot what it was like to feel scared.
Eventually I forgot that I used to be so afraid.
Dalton was part of that transformation. He’s been there.
He knows me. I feel safe with him. I understand him. I trust him.”
“Right. So feeling that a guy’s basically a human security blanket, that’s love to you?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? Why wouldn’t that be love?
It seems like … everything you could ever want.
Security. My parents never had that. They never gave it to each other; they never gave it to anybody else.
I don’t even know where my mother is today.
She’s never tried to find me or look me up again.
I’m afraid that if I reach out to her, she’s just going to reject me again.
I love this life I have here. I love the relationships I have. And I just want …”
“You want everything to be tied up neatly with a bow. You want to never make a mistake, and to never have another experience that hurts you.”
She looked away from him, but not before he saw a flash of pain in her eyes.
He reached out and touched her chin—a mistake he realized as soon his skin made contact with hers. He tilted her face up toward his, unwilling to demonstrate that he regretted touching her. “That’s not how life works.”
“What would you know about that? Who do you care about besides your family? What risks do you take emotionally?”
“None,” he said, dropping his hand. “Fair enough. Fair enough, Cassidy Wilder.”
“So I want to do this. I want to be with him.”
“What you really want is to kiss me.”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Sure it does. It means you want to kiss me. And that’s actually fine. You can want someone you don’t love.”
She shook her head. “Not me.”
“Why did you really come here?”
She stared at him for a long moment, searching his eyes for answers. Or maybe looking for them inside herself.
She didn’t know.
He could see that. She didn’t know what had compelled her to drive up here.
“How did you even know where my place was?”
“I asked Jessie. I said I needed to give you something related to the Wild West Show.”
He rolled his eyes. “You know she doesn’t believe that.”
“Maybe not, but she told me where you live.”
“Yeah. Because she’s a problem.” He sighed. “Go on your trip, Cassidy. I hope you get everything you want.”
It killed him to say that. He hated saying it. He didn’t want her to get Dalton. He wanted her to get underneath him. He wanted to drag her upstairs and show her that safety couldn’t replace passion.
But why? There was no earthly reason for him to do that. It would be pointless. A selfish act of instant gratification. And there would be a casualty.
She was scared. Of being rejected. Of losing people.
He didn’t want to be added to the list of people who had disappointed her. Who had done her wrong.
“You want me to give you these …?” she asked, looking at the diaries.
“No. Take them. Tell me what they say. And then tell me how everything went down.”
“I will. Thanks.”
There was a lot of worry in her eyes, and what he didn’t say was that things were never going to go back to the way they were. That things were never going to feel easy or companionable or whatever the hell she had come over here to try to find.
And not because he was too nice to say so. He had never been too nice. But he didn’t want to antagonize her. He just didn’t.
“Have a good time.”
She nodded and turned away from him, walking slowly out the front door, and he didn’t stop her.
She walked out, closed the door behind her, and he stood there until he saw her truck turn around and drive down the driveway.
He told himself that the bitter taste that flooded his mouth wasn’t regret.
He told himself that he didn’t wish he had asked her to stay.
But damn, he wished she had.