Chapter 13
When Holly woke up, she was stretched out in bed. Alone. When she turned her head to the side, it lazily dawned on her that she’d slept in the middle of the mattress. How long had it been since she’d allowed herself to occupy more than a small corner of the bed, even when she was the only one in it?
She smiled and stretched out further, extending her arms out. Felt like the queen of her domain. Best sleep she’d had in her entire life.
And then her finger shimmered, the diamond sparkling. Her smile faded.
What was she doing? Was she ready for this—really ready—to open up her heart again? What if he got bored of her? What if she came all this way and it didn’t work out? What if, what if…?
Old anxieties curled inside her chest again, making her cocoon the blankets around her.
Was she really here to get married again and risk heartbreak? Or had she just needed to get off?
Holly pulled herself out of bed. She felt a new energy coursing through her, as though she were twenty years younger. From the tips of her fingers to her toes, she felt rejuvenated. Like she’d shrugged off ten pounds of snakeskin sometime in the night.
She cracked her knuckles. Showered (still felt slippery between her legs from last night) and changed into fresh clothes. She went downstairs and brewed a pot of coffee. She poured a mug and took it outside, where she sat on the porch swing and watched the sun filter light over the tops of the oaks and evergreens. Birds sang—twittering red birds and chortling finches. If she listened closely, she could hear the rumble of a tractor. Brent must be hard at work. She slipped slowly and half-wondered if the view behind a man’s house was enough to marry him for.
She was about halfway through her cup when the screen door creaked open again.
“Thought I’d find you out here,” he said and gestured to the spot beside her. “You mind?”
Last night, he hadn’t so much as uttered a may I? before shoving his tongue between her legs, and now he was asking for permission to take a seat? She shook her head and scooted over. “Please.”
He sat down next to her. They watched the skyline for a second before he said, “Slept in your ring, huh?”
She twisted it on her finger. “Yeah.”
He looked over at her and said, “I know I said we’d wait until the end of the week—” He got in front of her and got on his knees. At first, she thought he was going to part her thighs again, and then she realized—oh no.
“I’m crazy about you,” he said. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”
She swallowed. Hard.
“And I don’t believe in waiting when I see a good thing.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “I want you, Holly. All of you. Forever. Will you marry me?”
Yes! her heart screamed. Of course! her aching sex screamed. But—
“No,” her lips whispered breathlessly.
He blinked. If it weren’t for the seriousness of the situation, she might’ve been pleased she’d knocked the cocky man on his ass. Now, she just felt sympathetic. “No?” he repeated, as though it were a foreign word to his ears.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
He got up. The chair creaked as he sat down beside her. After a quiet, somber second, he asked, “Did I move too fast?”
“No, well…kind of. Yes, that’s part of it. It’s not your fault. It’s just that…this weekend has been great. Really amazing. I can’t thank you enough for it, it’s more than I deserve. But when it’s over…the thought of what comes next terrifies me.”
“I’m in this,” he said firmly.
“You say that, but I don’t really know you. I don’t know that’s true. And I can’t afford to get my heart broken again.” She leaned in and softly pressed a small kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Baggage, you know?”
“I’ve got baggage too,” he said. “I can carry yours.”
“No one can.” She smiled sadly, her fingertips resting at the scruff on his jaw. “No one but me.” And maybe I’ll be alone forever, an old woman with nothing but her baggage to keep her company. But that’s okay. That hurts less than heartbreak.
Yet he looked more crushed than she thought he would. His eyes cast down, he suddenly looked older, beaten. Weary. Only for a second, though, and then he closed up entirely, his expression turning to stone, unreadable.
And that’s why I can’t marry you, she thought to herself. You’re hiding from me.
“I understand,” he said coolly, as though she were laying him off from a job. He glanced up at her, took her fingers in his, and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. Then he pressed a kiss there and she felt his scruff and it almost—almost—made her change her mind. “Thank you for your honesty.”