That stopped me. Because I knew men who used excuses like realism to avoid connection, responsibility, anything that looked like vulnerability. But this wasn’t that. This was loyalty. Fierce, bone-deep loyalty that wouldn’t bend just because he didn’t share their dreams.
Still, I pushed. “What do you think of the fiancées?”
His mouth twitched, but not into a smile. “They’re strong. They’ve seen things most women haven’t. Hell, most men haven’t. I don’t know if I believe in fairy tale endings, but if anyone’s got a shot, it’s those six.”
I let the silence hang between us. Let the air thicken.
“I plan weddings for a living,” I said eventually. “Six in the next few weeks, and they’ll all be perfect. But me? I’ll never walk down that aisle. Not in white. Not in any color. It’s not in me.”
“Why?” His voice was gentler now, but not soft. Silas Dane didn’t do soft.
I shrugged, pretending not to care. “Because I don’t trust forever. Because love is messy and people change. Because I’ve seen too many women lose themselves in the promise of something that was never real to begin with.”
Silas was quiet for a beat. Then he said, “Yeah. That tracks.”
I tilted my head. “You don’t think I’m wrong?”
He stepped closer, something flickering behind his eyes. “No. I think you’re the only honest one in the room most days.”
I didn’t know what to do with that.
Suddenly I felt too exposed. My dress was still clinging to every curve, my skin too warm, my body too aware of his.
I had brought him up here with every intention of letting things happen. Of peeling this dress off inch by inch, of silencing all the tension between us with the kind of reckless indulgence that didn’t need words. The kind that burned itself into memory and left no room for questions.
But now …
Now it felt different. More dangerous.
Because something had shifted in the air between us—this wasn’t just about lust anymore. Not just chemistry crackling behind a locked door. There was weight in the way he looked at me. In the way he didn’t touch me, but still made me feel likeI was coming undone. He was reading me like he already knew what pages to turn.
I didn’t like that. Didn’t want it.
This wasn’t what I did. I didn’t blur lines on the job. I didn’t get tangled up in brooding, emotionally guarded men with military pasts and fractured families. I didn’t crave them like I craved air.
But here I was—still bare beneath this silk, heart thudding in my chest.
I wasn’t sure what we were doing. I wasn’t sure what this was.
And maybe that meant I needed to walk away before I lost control. Before I made another mistake I couldn’t take back. Before Silas Dane became more than a complication and started looking like a possibility. A temptation. A ruin I might run toward instead of from.
I turned toward the door. “We should get back.”
His hand shot out, catching my wrist—gently, firmly. That same hand that had tangled in my hair when he kissed me like he wanted to burn the world down.
He didn’t pull me in. Just held me there.
“I don’t believe in marriage,” he said again, lower this time. “But I believe in wanting. And right now, I want you.”
My breath caught.
Dangerous. This man was so dangerous. Not because he was broken, or brutal, or carved from secrets. But because when he looked at me like that—like I was something rare—he made me forget why I’d built walls in the first place.
I stepped back. Just enough to break his grip.
“I believe in boundaries,” I whispered.
But even as I said it, the words tasted like a lie.
