Tell her.
She leaned in and replaced her finger with her lips.
It was heaven.
It was madness.
Guilt made him stop. “I’m telling you this so you know, so you realize the darkness I’ve faced. You don’t have to pretend. I’m no one’s Prince Charming. You can go.”
“I was kissing your neck a second ago. Don’t tell me you thought that was a pity kiss. Seriously, I was going to work on up to your lips, but now...” She removed herself from his lap and stood. “Now I’m just going to say that no one deserves to go through what you did or to be manipulated by a loved one.” Her voice trembled. “Other than stopping me from kissing you, you seem pretty well balanced. Good night.”
Slade listened to her go downstairs. The house creaked and groaned around him as if protesting Christine’s leaving. Slade didn’t protest.
It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was how it should be.
Christine walking out of his life.
* * *
EACH STEP THAT took Christine away from Slade seemed like a mistake. He needed her. And somewhere deep inside, Christine needed him, too.
He took her seriously, even though she wore torn T-shirts and ratty shorts. He respected her opinion, even when he challenged her. His touch made her feel as if she could do anything she set her mind to.
She stumbled on the front steps.
I love him.
How could that be? They’d only known each other a few weeks.
She tested the idea again, her feet a slow cadence on the sidewalk. I. Step. Love. Step. Slade.
Of course, it was true. She loved how he laughed with her. She loved how he watched out for her and the girls. She loved the flash of insecurity when he touched his tie or tried to ignore how the girls ignored him. It made her want to hug him fiercely, tell him not to worry, and kiss his insecurities away.
Colossally bad timing.
He was her boss. This was her one clear shot at solidifying the name she’d been building for herself in the industry. Dating him would tinge her reputation with favoritism, dilute what she was trying to do here, make people judge her wine on gossip rather than quality alone.
He can’t move on.
After all his talk about revitalizing the town, after all those days she’d seen or heard of Slade repairing and rebuilding houses and businesses, he still couldn’t stop trying to medicate his feelings by making money. And there was his shame. The shame that kept him buttoned up and pushed everyone who would love him away. How could she possibly combat that?
“You’re a good woman, going in that house. I’ve waited years for someone to realize he’s a decent man.”
The lone voice came from the porch at the corner house. A cigar glowed in the darkness. The aroma of cigar smoke lingered in the air.
Christine wasn’t feeling like a good woman. She was a coward for letting Slade reject her.
Slade didn’t think he deserved love, perhaps not even from his daughters. He kept himself buttoned up tight, both literally and figuratively. But he didn’t seem to want understanding from her, at least not the understanding she’d wanted to give.