When she nodded, he went on, “Back then, there weren’t many buildings. Mostly land. That’s true real estate, and it’s in my blood. I used to think real estate was about deals. A piece of paper, signed and filed. Then I was done, ready to move on to the next deal. But that’s not who I am anymore. I’m in the business of partnering with people to build something real. Something permanent. That’s why I grew WFP without Matthew. Not because I got lucky or worked hard. I fell in love with someone who challenges me to be more. Who taught me the value of wholehearted commitment.”
¡Dios mío!
“Is that where you were going?” She laughed, and it came out more like a sob. So now he was in love with her. Conveniently. “You came to deliver divorce papers and tell me you decided you’re in love with me. Anything else?”
He came off the couch in a rush, feet planted and eyes blazing. Involuntarily, she backed up from the heat of his anger. This was Lucas mad. Before, by the pool, was nothing in comparison.
“I’m not here to deliver divorce papers.” He held them up and flicked his other hand. A lighter appeared between his fingers, flame extended.
Before she could blink, he set the papers on fire.
Smoke curled away from the burning pages, and her divorce deal turned to ash. He blew out the fire before it reached his fingers and threw the charred corners on her pristine coffee table, metal glinting from his third finger with the motion. He was still wearing his wedding ring.
“What did you do that for?” she demanded, pulse pounding. “I have a copy in the other room, and you’re not leaving here until you sign it.”
His taut frame still bristled as he dismissed the demand with a curt slice of his hand. “I am not divorcing you. Period.” He took a deep, steadying breath. “Cia, listen for a minute. I handled it all wrong. I’m sorry. I cut down what mattered most to you and undermined your goals with the shelter, trying to force you to need me. I was too much of a dingbat to realize I’d done everything except the one thing you really wanted.”
“Oh, what’s that?” she asked. Tears stabbed at her eyes, burned down her throat.
“You stuck your heart out and then yanked it right back so quickly, I almost didn’t see it. You don’t give a guy a chance to think about what to do with such a gift, and I’m sorry it took me so long to figure out what would be enough.” He inched toward her slowly, giving her time to move. Or to stay. “You want someone to love you. You want me to love you.”
Her lungs contracted as his heart splashed onto his face. This was definitely not some conveniently discovered feeling calculated to get his way. He’d never looked at her with such fierce longing coupled with aching tenderness.
And yet, he’d always looked at her like that. She’d never dared examine it. Never dared hope it meant more than warm feelings for the woman he was sleeping with.
When he’d taken all the steps he could, she hadn’t moved. He swept her up in his arms.
“Darlin’,” he whispered into her hair. “Let me love you.”
She shut her eyes and breathed in Lucas. Breathed in the acrid, charred scent of burned paper as his body cleaved to hers and he held her. It would be so easy to plunge into this new Lucas, the one who opened up and poured out poetry and promises like sap from a felled tree.
With her stomach and heart twisting, she broke his embrace. “That’s not what I want.”
“Stop pretending.” Ferocity leaped back into his expression. “You’re so afraid, you either fake everything or you fight it, as if that will insulate you from hurt. Nothing will. But being alone hurts in a different way.”
His blue laser beams punched right through her, past the flesh and bone. She’d struggled so hard to be whole, to heal from losing pieces of her soul. First, when her parents died and after, when she tried to replace the loss with disastrous relationships.
And here she was, with no empty space. No room for anyone, not even this surprising, layered man who stood before her, asking for something she couldn’t give.
“I am afraid.” Had she said that out loud?
“I know, honey. I know all about fear. Do you think it was easy for me to come here with nothing to give except myself? Jewelry and spectacular sex are much easier to offer than risking you’ll accept plain old me. But I’m hoping it’s enough, because I can’t live my life without you.”
He was saying all the right things. Except he was first and foremost a salesman, and she’d experienced his stellar ability to sell himself firsthand. “You wanted me to be needy. But not anymore?”