Page 45 of Lacey's Fight

That he despised it.

That punishing himself was the only way to stay even marginally sane.

Avoiding women and anything hinting at what could turn into sex or worse a relationship had become his go-to. It was better to stay away from women than to risk falling for one.

Was that what was happening to him now?

Was he falling for Lacey?

After Jemima, he had never felt anything for any woman he had come into contact with. Not even the tiniest sparks of attraction.

Until her.

Until he watched her throw herself into the ocean to save an innocent. Found her battling but making progress to get herself and her charge to the yacht. Watched her face her fears alone with no support system but so much courage it filled him with shame.

In life you didn’t compare trauma. What he’d gone through was horrific. What Lacey had gone through was too. They’d both handled that trauma in wildly different ways and while he wasn’t kidding himself that Lacey had found the answer to surviving and getting past trauma unscathed, he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps her method of healing was better than his.

Avoidance didn’t equal healing. It was a coping mechanism and one that might work for a short while, but it was no road to finding peace.

Peace?

Was that even what he wanted?

How could he consider allowing himself to find it when Jemima’s last moments had been anything but?

Ben groaned and raked his fingers through his hair, dragging in a deep breath. He could run every second of the rest of his life, but he couldn’t outrun his problems.

Feeling something for Lacey didn’t have to change anything.

Chances were, it was just the high-stakes situation they had been thrown into anyway. How did he know these feelings were even real? They were likely just the result of attraction and the fact that they were responsible for one another’s lives while undercover. Throw in the fact that beneath her bubbly veneer Lacey hid a vulnerability she’d allowed him to see a couple of times, and it was no wonder he was confused.

Besides, even if he did have some sort of feelings for Lacey—and he was in no way admitting that he did—it didn’t mean that she had any for him.

One time.

That was what she’d told him.

Her offer had been to help him try to get over his issue with associating the last time he’d seen his wife they’d had sex and being unable to even consider being with another woman. There had been nothing in that offer that made mention of anything beyond one night.

And they’d had that one night already.

There was no more. He wasn’t going to get to touch her again, sink into her tight, wet heat again, listen to her breathy moans, watch as she surrendered her control to him, or feel her internal muscles clamp around him as pleasure claimed her body.

It was over.

Done.

So really it was a moot point. Regardless of what he felt for her, Lacey had made it more than clear that she didn’t want a relationship. While he was sure that was largely because of her past, he couldn’t make her want to change any more than she could make him change. And who said she had to change anyway? If she was happy being single, keeping her sexual encounters to one-night stands there was nothing wrong with that.

Just like there was nothing wrong with him if he decided he couldn’t move past his wife’s murder.

The past really did shape the future, sometimes in insurmountable ways.

Still, he shouldn’t have left the way he did, leaving Lacey standing naked in their room. Alone, hurt, and confused.

He’d walked away immediately after sex because he’d felt too much. Things he hadn’t been expecting. But in doing so he’d been selfish.

Just like he had with Jemima.

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