Page 95 of Rival Hearts
She wasn’t shy in front of me anymore.
And she had no reason to ever be shy—she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Not just on the outside but on the inside, too.
She was sweet and kind and caring, but she was also weird in the cutest way, quirky as fuck, and I couldn’t get enough of her.
After a while of lying together, I’d gotten up from the bed to clean myself up and get rid of the condom.
I hadn’t used one at the lighthouse. I should have, but the moment had been so perfect and she’d said it was fine. It would probably have been fine now, too, but I would always rather be safe than sorry.
I wasn’t cut out to be a father. I couldn’t even run a company without the investors getting upset and threatening to pull out. How could I raise a child?
Besides, the background I had, the bloodline, the awful people I’d originated from… no way in hell was I passing that on.
“Are you okay?” Charlotte asked when I climbed onto her bed again.
“I’m better than I’ve been in a long time,” I said with a grin.
She blushed lightly. I loved it when she blushed. She didn’t seem to know how absolutely exotic she was, and complicated always took her by surprise.
I took her hand and interlinked our fingers. Her hands were slim, her fingers long and slender. They were so delicate and small compared to my large, thick hands.
She was my opposite in almost every way possible—petite when I was large and muscular, gentle when I was gruff, kind when I was curt.
Easygoing when I got worked up so easily.
Perfect when I had been found wanting.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I said, still playing with her fingers.
“What?”
“Just… be. You’re always so unapologetically yourself.”
She considered it. “I don’t have a whole bunch of people I need to answer to.”
I shook my head. “It’s more than that. I struggle with control.”
She frowned lightly, and I let go of her hand, reaching for her face instead. I traced my thumb along one eyebrow that punctuated her confused expression.
“What do you mean, you struggle with control?”
“I always feel like I should be in control, and when I’m not… it terrifies me.”
I hadn’t ever said those words out loud. I wasn’t even sure why I was saying them now. They were true, of course, but to admit to something like that…
But Charlotte wasn’t the type of woman to judge. Maybe that was why I felt like I could tell her anything.
“I’m worried about work,” I continued. “About the future and what it will hold. I keep trying my best to keep a handle on things, to go in a certain direction, to make life work. But I always feel like just when I think I’ve got one thing under control, something else goes wrong. It’s like…” I glanced at her, trying to find the right words.
“It’s like trying to wrestle an octopus into a mayonnaise jar.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened for a moment and she laughed. It was such a beautiful sound.
“That sounds rough. Really, really rough.”
I sighed. “You have no idea.”
Charlotte took my hand and pressed her lips to my fingers. Her lips were soft, and her amber eyes locked on mine.
