Or if she was better off letting him go and grieving the loss of her dreams.
Hope, that jackrabbit of emotion, hopped into her chest and bounced around with big thumper feet.
Whatifwhatifwhatif?
What if he felt the same for her as she did for him? She thrilled at the idea that he could love her too. Her hopes were a candle flame on oxygen, flickering higher, brighter.
Um, yes . . . but what if he didn't feel the same?
Shh, shh. She wasn't going to think about that. For now, she needed all the hope and optimism she could muster in order to open up and tell him everything that was in her heart.
And her head.
Because her brain was still humming long after he let her go.
He sat beside her in the Tundra, his masculine presence filling the cab of her pickup truck.
She cast a sidelong glance, admiring his manly profile, appreciating the straight line of his nose, the set of his angular jaw, the cut of his cheekbone. Cataloged the precious face of her beloved. Her breath caught. She loved him so very much.
But what if he did not love her back? Not the way she needed to be loved. What then?
Doubt crept in. Maybe she should just keep mum about the humming in her head. Say nothing. Don't rock the boat. Spend the night with him. Enjoy the moment.
It was not enough.
With Ridge, it had to be all or nothing. Either he was in or he was out.
She had to know the truth.
Be brave.
She lifted her chin, stared straight ahead. Saw her neighborhood come into view.
Felt her stomach flip upside down, a jellyfish floating on sea foam.
Once the words were out of her mouth, there would be no do-overs. If he told her he did not love her, how would she live without him?
The thought was a spike through her chest, sharp and bleak. Her lungs ached. If he dismissed the Song of the Soul Mate, if he walked away, she would survive. She'd survived a bad car crash, survived being stalked by a crazy man, she could survive losing him.
But she would never, ever love another the way she loved Ridge Lockhart. He'd etched an indelible brand on her heart. That, she was going to have to live with for the rest of her life.
She bit her bottom lip, got tangled up in his masculine smell that now included the scent of dogs and shampoo. And when he reached across the seat to place a hand on her knee, she jumped.
"Did I startle you?"
"A bit, my mind was elsewhere." She peeked down at his hand, big and tanned and nicked with small scars. His nails clipped and buffed.
There it was again.
The dichotomy that was Ridge Lockhart. A seductive combination of polished and rugged. He was a man of the world. He'd been places, seen things, knew important people.
He was out of her league.
She couldn't compete.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice kind, concerned.
She turned her head, raised a shadow smile, lied, "Fine. I'm fine."
His smile was warm and tender and inviting. Nothing to be afraid of. She knew him. Had grown up with him as a child. Had spent hot days and long nights getting reacquainted with him as an adult.
He didn't move his hand, the heat of it sinking through her skin, flooding her bloodstream. He gave her strength, infused her with energy and courage. Yes. She would do this and let the chips fall where they scattered.
"Do you honestly have any idea how gorgeous you are?" he asked.
The rumble in his timbre sent the rolling heat to every organ in her body. She tingled from head to toe, alive from his touch.
"Here we are!" She spoke too loudly, too perkily, killed the engine in her driveway. Hopped out. Almost raced up the steps to her front door without waiting for him.
He followed. Slowly. Loping.
Her heart was a bagpipe, expanding and collapsing, falling in on itself, wheezing with effort.
She got the door open, automatically put up a foot to block Dart. Frustrated, the orange tabby glared at the bottom of her boot. She'd left Buddy and Bess in the backyard so she didn't have to contend with them too.
"Back, back," she urged, gently pushing the kitten away.
Disgruntled, Dart stuck his nose and tail in the air and sauntered off to another part of the house.
Ridge came up behind her. "You didn't wait for me."
"I wanted to make sure Dart didn't get out." Okay, not totally true, but he bought it. She moved over the threshold. He followed.
"Well," she said, dropping her purse onto the floor and turning around to face him. How did she start? Ask him to sit and then just dive right in? Tell him, I love you and we're fated by the Song of the Soul Mate?
But that was a bit abrupt, wasn't it. Shouldn't she ease into the topic?
"Are you hungry?" she asked. "I could order a pizza. Or make grilled cheese sandwiches if the bread hasn't gone moldy."