Page 38 of Seized by Love at Seaside
She swiped angrily at the tears streaming down her cheeks. She needed to do this. Blue deserved the truth.
“I need to tell you something, and I don’t want to. I want to go home and pretend I never came over.”
“This sounds serious.” He released her, and she suddenly felt very alone.
“I think it is.”I wish it weren’t.She could barely concentrate past the fear rushing through her and the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. She was unwilling to meet his gaze and unable to turn away. She didn’t know where to start. Should she tell him the whys of it all or start with the worst part and tell him what she did twice a week? Did it matter which she led with when the end result would be the same?
She could run to her car—drive away without saying another word. Then tomorrow she could try to pretend the whole thing had never happened—that she hadn’t been meaning to tell him and chickened out. The pain of knowing what she was about to reveal nearly dropped her to her knees. What happened to the levelheaded woman she’d been? How could she have let her heart get so tied up in him when she knew she had a secret that wasn’t fair to keep from the man she loved?
And shedidlove him, regardless of how fast it had happened. It was real and present and all around her, in the ache coursing through her and the worry rolling off of him in waves.
“Okay. I’m listening,” he said, his devastatingly sexy and serious eyes locked on her.
“Before I tell you, I need you to know that my intent was not to deceive you.”
BLUE’S GUT FISTED, and every nerve instantly caught fire. Nothing good could possibly follow those words.Deceivewas a dangerous word, and not one he’d expected to hear from Lizzie. Despite the uncertainty he heard in her voice, he reached for her again, unable and unwilling to turn his feelings off based on one sentence.
“Come here, sweetheart. As I said, whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.” She went rigid beneath his touch, and when she finally met his gaze again, he knew that whatever it was, it was tearing her up inside.
“Oh, it might be,” she said with a shaky voice. She inhaled another ragged breath, and her eyes dampened again.
In an effort at self-preservation, he released her, trying to calm his own internal struggle of wanting to hope for the best but, taking in the confusion and sadness in her eyes, fearing the worst.
“I don’t know where to start, so I’m just going to tell you.”
“Okay.” Every second felt interminable.
“I do a webcast every week, and I’m not proud of it, or maybe I am a little, but not really, but I do it anyway, and I should have told you.” She paused, swallowing hard.
Blue hardly ever used the Internet, but he wasn’t a novice. “A webcast? Is that like a podcast?” What the heck was she talking about, and why was this deceiving him?
“Sort of. It’s basically a video show that I do twice a week.”
“Okay. And?”
She fidgeted with a fraying thread on the blanket as she spoke in a low and serious voice. “It’s a baking show, one I started in college.”
He was totally confused. What was wrong with baking?
“I…um…earn money by monetizing the videos. You know, the longer people watch, the more money I earn from my partner programs.”
“I don’t know anything about video monetization, Lizzie, but how is this deceiving me? I don’t care if you do baking videos. Is that why you leave me muffins and sweets in the mornings?” He reached for her hand.
She nodded, and a tear slipped down her cheek, ripping right through his heart. He gathered her in close again, pressing one hand to the back of her head. “I don’t understand. Why are you so upset? So you make baking videos. What am I missing?”
She pushed back, and he could see she was holding her breath.
“Breathe, baby.” He squeezed her hand.
“I…I don’t just make baking videos.” She shifted her eyes away. “I’m the Naked Baker—” Sobs burst from her lungs, and she covered her face.
His mind reeled with confusion as he tried to wrap his head around what she’d said. “Naked Baker? You bake naked? Online? For money?”Holy sh…
She shook her head. Thank goodness he’d misunderstood.
“I wear an apron that covers my chest and down below. And heels.” She wiped her eyes with her forearm, still looking away.
“Anapron?” He couldn’t even begin to process what she was saying. Too many emotions surged through him. “What else?” He was breathing hard, and his chest burned.A measly apron and heels?
