Page 38 of Flirting With Disaster

She was happy.

“I don’t party. I haven’t been sleeping because I miss you.”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t miss me, you miss the sex. I was pretty phenomenal.”

* * * *

Beck wanted to kiss the hell out of her and then throw her over his knee and spank her for her smart mouth. This wasn’t going as planned. He was baring his goddamned heart, and she was supposed to have fallen into his arms by now.

“I love you,” he barked.

“I’m needy.”

“I need you.”

“You don’t want to need me. You can have any woman you want. You’re in search of peace inside a stress-free world of loneliness and repentance. That’s an imaginary landscape that doesn’t exist. You gotta have faith you are strong enough to deal.” She sighed. Dark circles framed her eyes. “And you don’t love me, Beck.”

He ran his scarred hand through his hair. “I changed my mind!”

“You can’t do that. Not where love is concerned. It’s only expedient when choosing paint colors, picking out a tie, or ordering sushi if the fish doesn’t look fresh.”

In her yoga pants and an oversized MIT sweatshirt, her hair tied back in some flouncy ponytail and a set of black-rimmed glasses propped on her nose, she was beautiful. All her dignity…fighting against the small glimpse of vulnerability…

He wanted her with every breath in his body, with every aching pain from his past. A need so elemental he couldn’t ignore it.

He was ready to forgive himself…for her.

“Listen to me!” He grabbed her and stopped her narrow escape. “I was scared. A coward, like you said. I didn’t figure it out until after I got done being out of my fucking mind over almost losing you.”

She waited, her big cat eyes staring at him like he was full of shit. “I’m more than capable of being responsible for my own life and death.”

He sighed. “I went to the castle to regroup, to re-evaluate my life after rehab. And there you were. This gnawing, irresistible temptation that threw my peace and solitude into a state of chaos. And chaos means stress to me. I like to self-medicate when I’m under stress.”

“Give it up, Slader. Truth is, you live on adrenaline. I am not adrenaline-producing material. You’re addicted to being addicted, so you don’t have to try living and possibly fail. I’m boring. Not addictive at all.”

He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. Hope flickered in her eyes, and he smiled. “I’ve found a new addiction. One that makes me a better person. One where I’m at peace within the chaos. You are my new addiction, Jude Duffy.”

“That’s only my oral sex skills luring you in. What if I die in your care?”

“I’ll just have to jump into the grave with you.” Beck grabbed her face in his hands. His heart swelled, but the battle wasn’t over yet. “I love you, Jude. I want to be with you. No matter how long we have together.”

She pulled her face from his hold and stared at the ground as she scuffed her small sneaker over the compact earth. “I’ll have to think about it.”

His heart plunged in his chest. “What’s there to think about?” He didn’t want her thinking. He only wanted her feeling. A thinking Jude meant trouble.

Her green gaze lifted to his. “What’s in it for me?”

Insecurity settled over him. “Me?”

She snorted and stepped toward his right, circling him. “What else?”

“Anything you want.” He turned, keeping her in sight.

She stepped closer. “A pool? A house with a pool?”

“Am I living with you?” He matched her approach, craving her touch, her scent.

She glanced away. “Maybe.”

---