The Playboy's Proposal (Sorensen Family)(35)

Whatever Henry had expected her to say to him tonight, he hadn't expected this and he struggled to comprehend.

She loves me?

This crazy, complicated, and beautiful woman thought she loved him. The unexpected joy and exhilaration he felt was immediate and surprising. But it didn't last long, as the shadow of doubt followed just as swiftly.   





 

Benny only thought she loved him. But she'd also thought she loved Luke up until this moment.

Love was fleeting. It didn't last.

Especially where it concerned him. He just wasn't a lovable guy. Nor did he think he was capable of loving someone, especially someone like Benny, with the devotion they deserved.

But the last thing he'd wanted in all of this was to hurt her. To have to pretend that hearing her say she loved him hadn't been about the best thing in the world to hear.

He flexed his jaw, trying to think of what to say, what words he could utter that wouldn't completely crush the spirit of the woman before him.

"Benny. I  I've really enjoyed our time together as well. More than you could know. In the short amount of time we've known each other, you've become the best friend I've ever had. And that friendship is so important to me that I would hate more than anything to lose it. To lose you." His voice cracked at the end and he cleared his throat, trying again. "And it's for that reason, I can't return those words. Those feelings."

It ripped his heart out to say that, especially when her face, so bright and hopeful before, seemed to fall, her eyes pooling with tears that clung to her lashes.

"Henry. Don't do this," she said, shaking her head. "Don't push me away because you're afraid. I need you to look at what's in front of you. At what we can have. Yes, it's scary to let yourself feel those things, to love someone, to give yourself over to that feeling of not knowing what can happen, but loving each other can also be a miracle. It can be the most amazing thing we could share. You just need to let yourself fall."

"I-" he stopped, not trusting himself to say anything more, nor did he think he could, as his throat seemed to be closing, shutting off air.

She studied him for one long, painful minute. Then, he saw it. The moment she gave up. When she knew.

He fought the urge to go to her, to hold her, to tell her what she needed to hear. But something stopped him, some kernel of doubt that told him that whatever pain he felt now would be nothing compared to the pain of losing her love later.

Instead, he watched as she lifted her chin almost defiantly, nodding slightly, and walked out the door, letting it close softly behind her.

No slamming, no yelling, just quiet acceptance.

Henry didn't know how long he stood there, staring at the door. Hoping that she'd come back and tell him that being friends would be enough. But, of course, the door remained closed. The place eerily silent.

A dark cloud seemed to be hovering over him. A dredging sense of sadness that he just couldn't shake. When he'd entered this bargain, he'd thought only to get Benny off his back and ensure he didn't do anything to risk getting that account at work. He hadn't expected to have these feelings for her.

He'd meant what he said. He'd never cared as much for any woman in his entire life. And somehow he'd managed to mess that up.

He glanced over at the monstrous black piano in the corner of the room. Benny had asked him once if he played, and he'd answered vaguely. There actually had been a time when he was a kid when he enjoyed playing the piano, losing himself in the music, the melody. He'd expressed his emotions through the songs he played. It was funny, because for so long he'd balked at the lessons his mother made him take, lessons he was certain had only been a way for her to get him out of her hair.

Which was why when she'd passed last fall, it had been surprising to find that of all the things that had been donated and passed through the estate, the piano was the one thing she'd directed in her will to go to him. He'd nearly sent it to the landfill. Even thought about taking a sledgehammer to it in epic fashion. But he'd kept it. For what reason, what purpose, he didn't know.

But right now, it seemed his fingers were itching to finally touch the keys. To express his warring emotions with music.

He pulled out the bench and slid behind the instrument. He didn't make any movement to touch the keys at first, simply staring at them. He knew the surface would be clean and polished thanks to the efforts of his maid.

Taking a deep breath, Henry settled his fingers over the keys, positioning them as the instinct to play started to kick in. Would it be like riding a bicycle? Would he feel what came next without having to think too much about it?

He pressed a few keys, the sound strange but welcoming. It took him only a few more strikes before he relaxed his shoulders and let his fingers move across the keys on their own. He closed his eyes.

Why had he waited so long?

Because he hadn't wanted to be reminded of those feelings from long ago. Those feelings of abandonment. Of feeling unloved. Unwanted.   





 

Maybe, just like him, his mother hadn't been capable of loving someone. Not entirely. And maybe this piano had been, in her way, a peace offering to him. An apology of sorts.

He couldn't possibly know what had gone through that woman's mind, and maybe he was being fanciful, but his conclusion felt right.

Maybe there was room for a little forgiveness for his mother after all. And hopefully, one day, maybe Benny would feel the same toward him.





Chapter Twenty

Bright and early Monday morning, Benny sat in the corner chair in Luke's office, sipping her coffee. She'd been sitting there for twenty minutes already, and it was a test of her will not to stare obsessively at the clock as she waited for his arrival.

But she needed to get this off her chest before she could move on. Move on to pretending that her life was going to be okay now that Henry wouldn't be in it. Pretending until the pretense eventually became reality.

And she felt like she could breathe fully once again.

It wasn't until ten to eight that Luke finally appeared in the door. "Benny? Well, good morning, beautiful. This is a nice surprise." He walked in, accepting the cup of coffee that she held out for him and took his seat. "Are you feeling better?"

"I'm doing okay." Luke had actually called and checked in on her briefly last night, but she'd kept the call short, not trusting herself to get into things with him on the phone without bursting into tears. Besides, this needed to be done in person.

He seemed to suddenly recognize her fatigue as his face clouded over with concern. "You sure you're okay?"

He really was a great guy. Why hadn't she fallen in love with him?

She smiled. "Let's just say that whatever is bothering me isn't physical."

"Okay  so what seems to be the trouble?"

"It's just that-well  wow. This is harder than I thought." She leaned forward, trying to gather her thoughts. "Let's just say that over the past few weeks, I've learned a lot about myself. About who I am. About what I need to be happy."

Luke looked confused, but he nodded, waiting for her to go on.

"I don't know if you knew this, but when I started working at the clinic, I kind of had a bit of a crush on you." Luke grinned, but she couldn't let her embarrassment stop her. "But as you may recall, I struggled with how to talk with you or approach you or even be seen as anyone other than a klutz. I was sure the only way you were going to be interested in me is if I changed everything about me. So much so that I don't even know if what you like about me is because of who I am-or who I've pretended to be. Who I thought you wanted me to be."

"I don't think I understand." He shook his head in confusion. "I think you're wonderful."

He wasn't making this any easier on her. "Tell me something. When did you first consider asking me out? When did you first really look at me as someone you might be interested in?"

Luke scratched his head. "I don't know. Maybe when you brought me that first cup of coffee."

She nodded. "You realize that I'd been working here for about two months by that point. What was it about that particular moment that changed things for you? Was it because I'd cut my hair, layered on lipstick and makeup, bought some new clothes? Was that why I suddenly became more attractive to you? Finally caught your attention?"

His forehead creased in confusion. "No. I mean, I don't know about you changing your hair or any of that. It was just that  well, before, you always seemed to run away from me. I didn't think you even liked me, frankly. But that day, you actually spoke to me. And we talked. And after that you just seemed  more confident."

Benny hadn't necessarily expected Luke to admit he was so superficial as to only have seen her, really seen her, until after she'd had the makeover. She'd thought he'd be evasive or uncertain until she pointed it out to him. This, however, was unexpected. "When we talked? You mean when I pressed you to talk about your interests, about golf?"

He paused. "I don't remember what we talked about, but I was flattered that you actually sought me out. Finally had a conversation with me. Not that I hadn't noticed the way you were suddenly dressing differently, or that you were wearing your hair differently. But before, you were kind of  unapproachable. And then you suddenly weren't. And sure, I thought the changes were great. However, I've dated attractive women before; I don't always necessarily ask them out for second dates. Or ask them to meet my parents. We just seem to have so much in common, have the same interests."