Page 42 of Sweet Passions at Bayside
“I know I’m your girl now,” she managed, and saying it out loud magnified the meaning behind it, rejuvenating her resolve. “But you said this time together was an example of how I should expect guys to treat me. Is this what I should expect when I go out on first dates, to let them go further?” Even talking about other guys seemed wrong on too many levels, but it was the only reason she could come up with in her current frazzled state.
The muscles in his jaw twitched. “Absolutely not.”
“Then maybe…” She sat up and wrapped her arms around her trembling legs. “We should call it a night.”
He nodded curtly, his face stoic, eyes still dark as night, clearly struggling as he pushed to his feet, picked up the blanket, and offered her his hand. He helped her to her feet, and they walked awkwardly, and silently, inside. She felt a fissure forming inside her, and at the same time, she knew she’d done the right thing. But she worried about what was going on in Dean’s head.
“I should get the towel from the shower,” she said to break the ice, and turned to go back outside.
He grabbed her around the waist, hauling her against him with that same stoic expression. But his eyes softened, filled with worry. So much worry it caused the fissure to tear wide open.
“I’m sorry,” they both said at once.
“No. It’s my fault,” she said quickly. “I want to be with you, but I’m afraid of what the morning will bring. I’m not good at this, and I’ve ruined enough friendships. I can’t ruin ours.”
“I shouldn’t have rushed you. I know better, but I’m so into you, Emery, I can barely control myself.”
He pressed a hand to the back of her head, bringing her cheek against his chest, and held her so tight she was sure his handprint would be branded into her skull. It was agoodhold, a solid hold. The hold of a man who was fighting against everything inside him.
Join the party.
“You can’t ruin us,” he said vehemently. “You’re not capable of it, Emery. One day you’ll understand that.”
He drew back and gazed into her eyes. “It’s late. Go get ready for bed. I’ll grab the towel.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead, and as she watched him disappear into the darkness, it took everything she had to force her legs to carry her into the bathroom instead of running after him. She closed the door and leaned her back against it. If she’d had any reservations before, now she knew for sure that whether she’d let him go further or not, everything had already changed.
Chapter Twelve
DEAN LINGERED OUTSIDE, giving Emery time to use the bathroom and get safely within the confines of her bedroom before he ventured inside. He could kick himself for rushing her when he knew perfectly well it was the wrong thing to do. He wanted to set them apart from all her other relationships—dates, he corrected himself. Emery didn’tdorelationships. She dated guys a few times, slept with some—the pit of his stomach pinched with that bullet—but she’d told him that she’d never had a lasting relationship. From what she’d said about her ex-boss, that had looked like it could lead to something more. She’d gone out with him a handful of times, but according to Emery, the guy had become stalkerish. He’d wanted to see her every night, and she’d needed space. Then things had become uncomfortable at work and she’d quit.
He paced the yard, his gut churning with the thought of her ex making her uncomfortable.Wanting to see her every night.
Dean stopped cold.He’d wanted a relationship?
Could that have been it? Had she overreacted? Self-sabotaged?
He began pacing again. And here he was mentally making plans together for every night of the week. She didn’t need to mess this up, because he probably already had. That would explain her hesitation to going with him to the benefit dinner. Although his father could be a pompous tool, and Emery did have a pretty thin filter.
He had to fix this, and he knew there was only one way to do that. He’d have to give her space, no matter how much he wanted to barge into her bedroom and sweep her into his arms. That was a surefire way to lose the wild child, afraid-of-commitment Emery Andrews. Why hadn’t he seen that before? She might have been in denial about her true feelings, but he’d clearly been blinded by his.
When enough time had passed that he was sure she was in her room, he headed inside. Her bedroom door was closed. Cash was curled up in front of it like a tiny sentry.Don’t worry, buddy. I know the boundaries.
The bathroom smelled like her. A pink comb and brush sat on one side of the sink. A small white tube, glass jar, and pump bottle, all with MEANINGFULBEAUTYlabels, littered the other side. He picked up the glass jar and read the label. WRINKLESMOOTHINGCAPSULES. Was she kidding? She wasn’t even thirty years old yet.Girls worry too much.She had gorgeous skin, and he was sure it wasn’t because of some expensive face stuff.
He opened a drawer and began transferring his toiletries to another, clearing that one out for Emery. He put her things in the empty drawer and reached for his electric toothbrush, beside which was a child’s electric toothbrush with a character on it. He chuckled. He’d forgotten about that. She used children’s talking toothbrushes because she didn’t like how big adult toothbrush heads were. She also said she got distracted when she brushed and could never remember if she’d brushed long enough. The talking toothbrush did the remembering for her. She was quirky, all right, and that just endeared him toward her even more.
He brushed his teeth and washed his face, and when he went to his room, he found all the things Emery had left there earlier. He set the magazines and other paraphernalia on the bedside table, stripped, and climbed between the sheets. Plagued by the scent of her on his pillow, memories of the look on her face seconds before she’d kissed him in the water, the sensual sounds she’d made when they were making out assaulted him. He’d never forgive himself if he screwed up things between them.
He threw an arm over his eyes, ground out a curse, and tried to ignore the lust coursing through his body.
EMERY SLID BENEATH the sheets. Dean turned onto his side, reaching for her, bringing her soft, warm body against his. He was in that hazy gray space, not fully asleep, but not fully awake, and this was the best dream he’d ever had. He could feel her soft curves beneath a thin layer of silk. He pressed his hips forward, inhaling her sweetness. She nuzzled against him, making those addicting noises he loved so much. As his mouth came down over hers, it felt so real, all he could think was, Please don’t let me wake up. Let me live in this dream forever.
“No, big guy. I just want you to hold me.”
Her voice was so real, but she was saying all the wrong things. This was his dream, his fantasy. What the…? He covered her mouth with his again, but she squirmed out of reach, toward the edge of the bed.No! Don’t go!
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have come.”
