Page 64 of Bad At Love

“As a big gesture, yeah.”

His breath hovered out of reach as his stupid heart jumped to conclusions. “What do you mean?”

“I have selfish reasons to clear out the house and get rid of the junk and…” she wriggled in his arms and when he wouldn’t let go, sighed. “Let me go.”

“Why?”

“Because this is serious and I need to brace myself for your reaction.”

“Char…”

“Please, DP.”

He let her go, reluctantly, but kept her close. There was no way she was leaving him now. She ended up lying prostrate on the couch, her eyes wide in her face.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“I wanted to make a little space for myself.” She colored. “Not little, actually. I need a lot.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying, Char. But you better start talking about who I saw at your house,” he said, keeping his fingers wrapped around her ankle. He didn’t even care if she thought them shackles. Didn’t care that his grip was rough, and he sounded like a possessive madman.

Her gaze lingered on his grip and a tremulous smile peeked. “Thatwasa real estate agent you saw. I asked her to find renters.”

His stomach sank like there was a lead weight in it. “Are you moving?”

“No, of course not.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, then cursed. “I don’t mean to sound like an arrogant jackass.”

She rubbed her foot over his palm, grinning. “You’re allowed to sound however you want with me, DP. That house is as much yours as it is mine.”

“Jesus, Char. Take some pity on me. What’s going on?”

She pushed up and brought his hand to her lap. “Initially, I thought of selling the townhome. It’s a sellers’ market and there’s such low inventory that I could make a nice chunk despite the mortgage. But I didn’t want to make that move without talking to you. I remembered that you said how hard it was to buy a home in the current economy. I mean, I guess I could have talked to Dom and…”

He bit back a smile at how fast she was talking.

She kissed his fingers, which calmed his racing heart just a bit. Then leveled a penetrating look that peeled layers off him, to his very soul. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears and so much emotion. “Which is kind of a lie because the idea of selling it terrified me, to be honest. And I know you will think it reflects on my trust in you but really, it’s not. It’s the fear in me.”

DP’s head reeled. Nothing made sense. Except that she was renting her place and cleaning out his and claimed it was borne out of selfishness. “Char…sweetheart,” he said, gentling his voice, “why are you renting out the townhome? It’s a part of you.”

“Because I…” Her breath hitched and tears dripped down her dusty cheeks. “Itisa part of me. It represents so much to me but not more than you. I wanted to show you my commitment to you and me,to us. Selling it would have been the grand gesture because I would literally have nowhere else to go but…I got scared.”

DP thought his heart might have splintered into a thousand pieces then. But he also knew that she would put it back together with her own hands. Shiny and better than before, the way the Japanese mended broken pottery by adding threads of gold or silver. “Are you saying you want to move in with me? Is that why you’re clearing out all this shit?”

“There’s so much junk, DP,” she said with that practicality he adored. “It’s literally shrunk the size of the house.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

She lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Yes. I was going to clear it out, paint the bedroom, and get a new bed in there. A king bed and claim it as my gift to you. But of course, it would be for me because there’s no way you and I can sleep comfortably on a queen bed.”

His heart thundered as if it had been injected with a dose of adrenalin, his brain incapable of forming a reply.

“You, sir, have the annoying habit of crowding me. And with menopause not too far behind, who knows what kind of fresh hell is waiting for me?”

He felt shaky like a newborn calf, a boulder sized lump in his throat. He was terrified to move or speak too loud for fear of discovering that he was on the damned plane and dreaming again. “What else do you need?”

“Your heart,” she said, holding his gaze.