Willow expelled a breath of relief. He’d sounded so serious. She’d been afraid of what he was about to say. “You are already, I told you.”
He opened his mouth to explain better, but Willow sat bolt upright and stared out to sea. “Look, Matt!” She pointed far off in the distance, towards the glistening pathway cast by the moon’s light.
“What am I looking for?” He asked, marvelling as ever at how her excitement changed her face dramatically.
“Don’t you see them?” She linked her fingers through his and stood. He had little choice but to follow, as she ran towards the shore. “There.” He saw something dark and graceful in the water.
“What are they? Dolphins?”
She laughed. Undoubtedly, they were, though it was unusual to see them at this time of year. “Or maybe mermaids?” She teased, wrapping an arm around his waist and squeezing his side.
Matt turned slowly, bringing his body to hers. He looped his arms low behind her back, and stared into her brilliant, dark eyes. “If they were going to show themselves to anyone, I bet it would be you.”
“Do you?” She grinned, smiling as the dolphin disappeared beneath the ocean’s surface once more.
“Yeah. You are some kind of wonderful, Willow. Even the mermaids must see that...”
She stood on tiptoes and pressed a kiss against his lips. “I’m so glad you came to Haymarket Bay, Matt.”
He nodded. He’d tell her another time. No way was he going to risk ruining that moment. He kissed her properly, and every fibre of his body seemed to relax with relief. Kissing her felt right. Every damned thing about being with her felt right. Except for the certainty that he had to leave her. And soon.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Willow leaned back into the seat, feeling full of food, a little fuzzy around the edges after two beautiful glasses of French wine, and totally, resplendently happy. The sun bounced in through the windscreen, warming her legs, as Matt effortlessly drove them back towards the beach.
“Willow,” he said quietly, and something in his tone made her realise that he was about to say something serious.
She forced herself to look at him, though opening her eyes hurt after such a perfectly relaxing lunch. It was their third picnic lunch. Two weeks had passed in the blink of an eye, and Willow was finding it hard to keep quiet about their relationship. Every time she saw Anna, the confession bubbled on her lips.
Because it wasn’t just sex. And it wasn’t even just dating.
Willow was completely in love with Matt McCain, and she suspected she would be for the rest of her life. But how did he feel about her? It was obvious that he liked her a lot; and that he found her as irresistible as she did him. But what about the future?
He never talked about that. And whenever she made oblique references to events down the track, he was conspicuously silent. Willow, fiercely independent in a post-Ashton world, had begun to hope for a future that was less lonely. For a future with Matt.
And it was crazy! He wasn’t even divorced yet. He’d sure as hell not made any promises to her. And their best friends didn’t even know they were seeing one another.
“What is it?” She prompted, lifting her hand and putting it over his, on the gearstick of the car.
She was so happy. Her contentment hit him like a brick in the solar plexus, because it mirrored his own. What kind of fate had brought him together with a woman like this, at the worst time in his life? His divorce, and his commitment to McCain Industries… he’d had no business getting so tied up with another woman. Especially not someone as unique as Willow. His bright blue eyes seemed to spear through her, before he turned back to the road. “I’ve had a great few weeks with you.”
“Two,” she corrected, thinking of the first time they’d made love. “Two weeks.” They’d been so swept up in passion that they hadn’t even used protection. An incredibly stupid thing for either to have done; something they’d both taken care of subsequently. The way she’d felt that night – she still shuddered to recall the overpowering need that had moved within her.
“Right.”
Something in his tone sent a whisper of unease breezing across her body. “What is it, Matt?”
Two weeks of dinners, walks on the beach, laughing until his sides split. Teaching her to fish and not squirm at the wriggling live bait he used. Even reading her books had given him a whole new level of understanding of just what made that magnificent mind of hers tick. The idea of walking away not just from Willow, but from the whole of his life here with her in Haymarket Bay was unpalatable in the extreme. Matt thought of the situations he’d faced head on in the past. Many dangerous, many terrifying, and yet this was one of the hardest he’d had to deal with. “I have to go back to New York.”
A small sentence with enormous consequences, it sent Willow into a state of total shock. He had to go back to New York? “What? When?”
“Yesterday,” he admitted gruffly, thinking of his mother’s annoyance when he’d postponed the board meeting.
“But…” She shook her head in confusion. “How long for?”
He didn’t dare look at her. He couldn’t. He knew that if she saw his own indecision, it would make her want to argue to decision. As though he had a choice. “Indefinitely.”
“Indefinitely?” She was trapped in his car, with country California speeding past her window. “What? What are you talking about? Why?”
He closed his eyes briefly, then looked back at the road. A farm, dotted with cows, was to their left. “I’m taking up the chairperson position at McCain Industries.”
Just like that. He was taking up a chairperson position. He wasn’t talking to her about it. Asking her what she thought. He was letting her know that he’d made this decision. She swallowed, but her throat felt lined with razor blades. “You are?”
“Yeah.”
Willow opened her mouth and then closed it again. He had no obligation to her. He’d never made her any kind of promise. But… she shook her head from side to side. “This seems kind of sudden.”
Matt swallowed. “I should have told you sooner. I just didn’t want to ruin the time we had.”
“You didn’t want to…” She closed her eyes and pressed back in the seat. A wave of heat and then ice cold doused her. “You didn’t want to ruin the time we had.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you.” Matt groaned inwardly. He knew how trite he sounded.
She glared at him angrily. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt me,” she retorted fiercely. “And I believed you.”
Guilt lanced through him. “I’m sorry, Willow. I had no idea this would get serious. I thought we’d have some fun and then…”
Willow felt nausea bubbling inside her. “Are you freaking kidding me?”
“I don’t mean that this was just fun for me. I care about you…”
It was going from bad to worse, for both of them. Matt was struck with the insufficiency of what he was saying, just as Willow was left to feel completely demoralised by his characterisation of what they’d shared.
She spun in her seat, so that she could face him properly. “I can’t believe you’re just telling me this now.”
He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I know. I tried to tell you sooner. I wanted to. But we were having so much fun, and I knew you’d…”
“You knew right. Of course it would have changed everything. As it should have,” she interrupted. “I just can’t believe you’re dumping me.”
Matt felt as though he’d been shot. No, he felt worse. For he’d been shot, and he’d been able to handle that. This was worse. A hole seemed to gape in his gut, but he was powerless to close it. His future was in New York. He owed it to his dad to reach out for that future with both hands.
“I’m not dumping you. I’m leaving Haymarket Bay. This isn’t about us. If you would consider moving to Manhattan, then I would very much like to keep seeing you.”
“Oh my God.” She squeezed a fist around the door handle. “You have to be kidding me.” The pain and disbelief in her voice was a tipping point for him.
“Willow,” his voice was raw with emotion. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I met you now, and not years ago. I’m sorry that I have a commitment in New York I simply can’t ignore. I’m sorry that I spent the last two weeks knowing I would have to leave you, but not telling you that because I just wanted to keep feeling your happiness.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re just like Ashton. A liar. An arrogant pig convinced you know what’s better for me than I do.”
The insult cut him to the quick. “I have been trying to spare you from this. I didn’t want you to feel what I’ve been feeling, damn it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And just how have you been feeling?”
“Impotent.”
“Impotent,” she repeated angrily. It was a ridiculous word to describe this man, who was strong and powerful and able to have and do anything he wanted.
“Yes.” He reached out and looped his fingers over hers. “Do you remember that night we went to the beach and saw the mermaids swimming in the moonlight?”