Finding Glory Page 10

  “Look, the world didn’t stop spinning.” No, if anything, it spun faster, out of control.

  “No, it didn’t.” She pursed her lips. “But I’m still vulnerable.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re safe with me, Gina. I swear.” He was determined not to screw this up.

  “Safe?” She looked back up at him. “I’m not that, either.”

  “Do you think I’d hurt you?” That kept his libido in check. The idea that she’d be afraid of him was better than a bucket of ice down his back.

  “Not on purpose. God, Reed. Are you that thick in the head? Didn’t you see the way I looked at you when we were kids?”

  He knew then that he would never be able to do all those things to her that he wanted. Somehow hearing that she wanted him made him think about what it would have been like if he had known.

  “No, and it’s probably lucky for you that I didn’t.”

  He would’ve ruined her, taken all she had to give and drained her dry. He wouldn’t have done it on purpose, but the person he was then, that’s all he could do. He didn’t know how to be a person, how to love, because he’d never had it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LUCKY FOR HER that he didn’t notice her making mewling calf eyes at him? Why? What did that mean? Would he have taken her up on it? She shivered, little frissons of delight spreading through her at the thought.

  “I thought about it then, too, you know?” Gina confessed.

  “What?” He looked at her.

  For a moment she wondered if he just wanted to make her say it—speak the words aloud that she wanted him to be her first. But he really didn’t know what she was going to say.

  “When you offered to take care of that ‘pesky cherry’ for me.” She licked her lips. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry.

  “Oh, Jesus, I was an asshole.” He shook his head. “You should’ve kicked me in the face for talking to you like that. I was so high, if you’d said yes, it would’ve been on your list of regrets, I’m sure.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe not.” No, she imagined not. No matter what happened between them then, what she would’ve regretted was what she regretted now. That she hadn’t been bold enough or strong enough to reach for what she wanted.

  He shook his head again and stuffed another bite of pie in his mouth and she thought about that kiss from earlier. It was a little bit of nothing, that kiss. It was just his lips on her cheek, and it hadn’t been anything special.

  Or maybe it wasn’t supposed to be special, but it was. Sparks ignited through her body at the contact and it had taken everything in her not to turn into him and demand he kiss her for real.

  But then where would they be?

  A one-night stand with a man who couldn’t go home because he was home? They had Amanda Jane to think about.

  There was that part of her that kept thinking about fairy tales and white picket fences that thought this was the best course of action for both her and her niece. If she and Reed were involved, they would be almost the perfect little model family.

  But the realist in her reminded her that he’d just said they didn’t know each other anymore. He wanted to spend time getting to know her, not getting into her panties.

  And he was right.

  She only knew the idea of him.

  What was more, she couldn’t ever let herself forget that he had the same problem Crystal did. Maybe he’d gotten help, maybe he was clean, and that was what he had to do to be in Amanda Jane’s life. But what if he relapsed? What if he left?

  On an emotional level, Gina simply couldn’t go through it again. She’d been through as much as she could stand with Crystal. Amanda Jane couldn’t go through that again.

  “Was this maybe a bit more personal than what you meant when you talked about getting to know me again?” She laughed off what had almost become an irreparably awkward moment.

  “Maybe, but I’m not sorry for it.”

  “Since I just told you something so personal, maybe you’ll tell me something.” She was hungry for some new morsel, anything about him.

  “Whatever you want to know, Gina.”

  “You said you don’t date. Why not?” Why had that been the first thing she asked? Some things never changed.

  He seemed startled by her question and blinked. “You don’t hesitate to go for the throat, do you?”

  “If you don’t want to answer—” She was ready to backpedal at full speed.

  “No, I’ll tell you. That’s fine. The question was unexpected, though.”

  “Why? Most playboy types are...well...playboy types.” She’d imagined him running around with this jet-set lifestyle with more money than cares.

  “Having money doesn’t automatically make me a ‘playboy type.’ So far, my many residences include a condo in the city and the house on Knob Hill. It’s not like I bought a yacht and went to Monaco.”

  “Why not?” She wouldn’t go to Monaco, but she’d go to Paris, Venice, Rome, London...she’d see the world.

  “That’s three questions,” he teased. “But they all have the same answer. It’s not practical. I could lose this money easier than I made it. And I remember what it’s like living in Whispering Woods. I never want to go back there. Not just the place itself, but the mind-set. The fear of being hungry.” Reed shrugged. “I’m not going to let some gold digger take it from me, either.”

  “You think the only women who want to date you are gold diggers? That’s pretty cynical.” That would be a rather lonely existence, she imagined, thinking that everyone she met would want something from her.

  “I think we live in a culture where we’re taught to value money over connection.”

  That wasn’t the answer she expected. He was different, but there were things about him that were the same. She couldn’t argue with his logic. “Dating doesn’t have to be serious.”

  He arched a brow. “No? Is that why you’re still a virgin?”

  Gina blushed. “Point taken.”

  “It’s not just the money, Gina. I won’t lie and say it doesn’t matter because it does. But it’s about me, too. If I invite someone into my life, they have to accept every part of me. Not just who I am now, but who I was. And who I have the potential to be, both good and bad. Now I have Amanda Jane.”

  Gina looked down at her hands. “And me. I’ll be your wife. I can’t imagine what woman would tolerate this arrangement.”

  “That’s just it, Gina. She doesn’t exist. Because I would never put her before Amanda Jane.” He was quiet for a moment. “Or you.”

  She looked up at him again, the possibilities of fairy tales glittering like stars in her eyes. She blinked, trying to wash away all the sparkle she saw there. It was easy to speak of these things, much harder to do them, and Reed had always had a certain way of describing things that made the impossible seem likely.

  “That’s not my place, Reed.” As pretty as it sounded, that wasn’t fair to him.

  “It is. We will be married. You’re vital to Amanda Jane’s happiness.”

  Part of her wished so desperately that he’d say she was vital to his happiness. As childish and silly as it would sound.

  “Do you really think that we can do this?”

  “We’re already doing it.”

  She sat up very straight, realizing that she hadn’t heard Amanda Jane in a while. “I need to go check on her. I’ll be right back.”

  Amanda Jane was in her room, hair braided, nightgown and slippers on, dressing up one of her dolls.

  “Hey, what are you doing in here? I thought you wanted another movie?”

  Her blue eyes were wide. “You were talking.”

  She nodded. “We were. But only because we were waiting for you.”

  “Do you like him?” Amanda Jane asked
as she carefully brushed the doll’s hair.

  Gina suddenly couldn’t face the purity in her eyes because it burned through to her gut and splayed everything wide for anyone to see. “Of course I like him. He’s your daddy.”

  “No, Gina-bee. Like him, like him.” When Gina didn’t answer, she continued. “I think I’d like it if you liked him–liked him.”

  “That’s not possible, little one.” What was she supposed to say to that? How did she explain to Amanda Jane that things couldn’t be that way? How did she explain it to herself, because obviously, her body wasn’t getting the message.

  Her brain was receiving it loud and clear, but that didn’t stop her from thinking about him 24/7.

  “You don’t get to pick who you like-like, Gina-bee. It just happens.” She put the doll down on the bed and hopped up beside it.

  Gina sighed. “Sometimes, there are people that we may like-like, but for whatever reason, it’s just not the right time for it to happen.”

  “How can things happen at the wrong time?” She cocked her head to the side. “If they happen, they’re supposed to. That’s what you always told me about Mama.”

  She’d talked herself into a corner. “That’s enough questions out of you. Time for bed.”

  “That’s what you say when you don’t want to answer me.” The girl climbed into her bed with no fuss.

  “Yep.” Gina grinned at her and Amanda Jane returned the smile.

  She tucked her in and when she left the room, she found Reed standing in the hallway. His presence made it hard to breathe in the small space and she was so very aware of his size, his strength and the fact that while he wore his familiar face, he was very much a stranger.

  “Is she okay?” Concern marked his features.

  “Yeah.” She found the space between them shrinking, her eyes somehow too heavy to lift to meet his gaze. Gina swallowed hard, her whole body heating at his proximity.

  Was she blushing? Her cheeks felt as if they were on fire.

  “So I guess she doesn’t want a movie.” He chuckled, the sound low in his throat.

  There was a different timbre to his voice now. Gina didn’t know what had changed—maybe nothing. Maybe it was just standing alone with him in the dark.

  She ached to touch him, to reach out and fall into his arms, their lips colliding. She could take him up to her room and—hell. What was she thinking? It had been so long since she’d been held. Kissed. And this want in her had been silent for these long years. She’d given up on wanting anyone—or anyone wanting her.

  Gina knew this was situational. Logically, it was being thrown into this position with him, not just in the immediate moment, but the idea of raising Amanda Jane together. It made him safe.

  But Reed Hollingsworth was anything but safe. He could wreck her from the inside out.

  “What about you? Do you want a movie?”

  “I should probably go to bed. Back to work tomorrow.” Bed. Yeah, with him. She shook her head at the direction of her thoughts.

  “Gina.”

  “What?” She still wouldn’t look up at him.

  “Why won’t you look at me?” His voice rumbled low and caused a heat to wash over her.

  “I can’t,” she squeaked. She hated that she squeaked.

  His fingers were warm and strong on her chin, tilting her head up to the confession she didn’t want to give him. She knew he’d see her want in her eyes and then what? It couldn’t go anywhere even if he did want her.

  How pathetic was that? How awkward would it be if he didn’t?

  She wanted to turn away, to hide, but there was something reckless in her blood that suddenly flared to life. Let him look, let him see, and let the things fall as they would like leaves from the giant oak in the front yard.

  And he did. He saw it all. His blue eyes were suddenly shadowed in the half light, darker—deeper.

  “Hell,” he mumbled and the space between them was gone.

  Her arms tangled around his neck and the contact felt so good, after so long, just to be held by someone. He didn’t stop there, though.

  Crushed against him in a dark hallway, she finally got her kiss.

  It was everything she dreamed it would be. He was masterful, powerful, but tender, as well. He tasted of all the things she wanted, but never thought she could have.

  She wanted his hands everywhere; she couldn’t get close enough.

  Reed Hollingsworth was kissing her.

  It was as surreal as the rest of the things that had happened to her in these past weeks.

  He was the one who broke away first and she felt the loss of him, his heat, his strength so acutely she shivered.

  Gina had never once thought of herself as small and alone, and she’d never felt that way until this moment.

  Standing there, heart pounding like a drum and her senses fogged with desire, it was as if she were a lone bit of flotsam on a river whose current was too strong to fight.

  “I’m...” He scrubbed his hand over his jaw.

  “Sorry?” she supplied, breathless.

  “That’s just it, I’m not sorry. But I shouldn’t have done it.”

  Her lips were bee-stung and warm and she was having trouble thinking of anything but that kiss.

  But he was right. “No, you shouldn’t have. Now things can never be the same.”

  His expression was pained. “Could they have ever been?”

  She shook her head. “No. I guess not.” Gina swallowed hard and moved toward the living room. What would she have done if Amanda Jane had chosen that moment to open her door? It would give her ideas that were best left untouched and unknown.

  He followed her, and she was hyperaware of his presence at her back. “Do you want me to go?”

  “No.” She pursed her lips. “But maybe you should?” Gina didn’t mean for it to be a question, but deep down, she wanted him to stay. Only, this couldn’t only be about what she wanted. “Maybe we should put some distance between us. And what just happened.”

  “I’d say that we should pretend it never happened, but I can’t do that. Can you?”

  She was both relieved and terrified by his response. Relieved that she wasn’t the only one, but terrified for the same reason.

  “No, but I don’t want to play house,” she blurted. “I don’t want you to have feelings for me just because the arrangement makes it easy.”

  Reed looked away from her. “Nothing about this is easy, Gina.” He exhaled heavily. “Is that what you think being married will be like? Playing house?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” She shrugged and bit her lip. Her mouth still tasted of him, of his kiss.

  Of playing house.

  “I won’t do it again.” His eyes were dark and hooded.

  Gina thought for a moment she saw a flash of pain. “It’s not that I didn’t like it.” It was her turn to look away. “I think I liked it too much.”

  He laughed and it was a cold, bitter sound. “Never heard that before.”

  “You don’t understand at all, do you? I wanted you. I wanted this with you.” She hadn’t meant to confess this, but she couldn’t let him think that she didn’t want him. It had seemed like the worst thing in the world if he ever found out how she’d felt, but now it was if he didn’t. She couldn’t stand that look on his face.

  His eyes widened. “What are you saying?” As if the words didn’t make sense in the way she’d strung them together.

  “Our current circumstances aren’t the incarnation I dreamed about, but I kept waiting for you to notice me and I really believed one day we’d be together. When Crystal had moved on, you’d realize it was me you wanted. And we’d have a real family. Now here we are.” Her throat constricted. She couldn’t believe she’d just confessed this. It was
her deepest secret, although not her darkest. Her darkest was that she was jealous of Crystal for having him. She’d have traded her brains to be the hot sister. At least back then.

  “Yeah, here we are.” He gave another mirthless laugh. “And it’s nothing like what you dreamed of.” Reed shook his head. “You know, there was a part of me that wanted to be the white knight on the horse for you. For Amanda Jane. But that’s not real. And those kind of expectations—”

  The sadness scrawled on his face was too much. “I don’t have any expectations,” she rushed to reassure him. “Nothing outside of what was agreed upon in Emma’s offices.”

  He nodded slowly. “Good. Because that I can do. Anything else...” He shrugged as if the motion could sum up everything else that his voice couldn’t.

  “Jesus, Reed, do you think I still have all of those little-girl dreams and expect you to fulfill them?” Although, speaking the words aloud, she knew that there was a part of her that did.

  “Don’t you?”

  She blushed. “That’s just the little-girl part of me I haven’t managed to outgrow yet. I know it for what it is.”

  “That’s the damnable part of it, I guess. Because the kid I used to be, he wanted to be with you more than anything. But he knew that you were going places bigger than me.”

  Something stung behind her eyes, in her nose. She couldn’t breathe. “But we’re not those kids anymore. We know how the world works. And we have Amanda Jane to think about.”

  His eyes were guarded again. “Yes, we do. Emma should’ve received the account information by now, and if not, she will shortly. So I expect as per our agreement that you’ll be giving your notice at the Bullhorn and to the city.”

  He was all business now—closed off, his vulnerability hidden from her. As soon as he tucked it away, it was as if it had never been. Gina wanted to see it, touch it, know it was real and that she wasn’t alone.

  Otherwise, it was as if he was some kind of stone statue, moving like an automaton warrior—slicing through anything that stood in his way.

  “Yes. I’ll do that.” She hadn’t wanted to give up the EMT job. She liked working as an EMT. But she knew that the hours weren’t conducive to Amanda Jane’s needs or studying. She could catch up on some courses during the summer, too.