“So impressed right now.”
“Shall I enchant you with more stories of me making an ass out of myself?”
“Be careful, Roxanne, or I’m gonna fall harder than I already have.”
Duke chuckles and keeps walking, but that line hits me like another lightning strike, and I halt on the trail.
He’s falling? How could he when this is so temporary? When he made that statement, it was so casual and yet, I felt the ground beneath me shake.
“What’s wrong?” He circles back and stands in front of me.
I blink at him not able to find words right away. Part of me wants to throw my arms around him and part of me wants to run back to New York as fast as I possibly can. I swore I wouldn’t fall headfirst in love again, but Duke Faraday makes it almost impossible to resist his pull and that scares the hell out of me.
“How can you … how can you say that?” I demand.
“Say what?”
“You’re falling? Like … thein-lovekind?”
Duke runs his fingers down his scruff. “That’s generally the kind people fall into.”
“You can’t just say something like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” I say. “Because that’s not what this is.”
“What is this, then?”
“I don’t know!” I toss my hands in the air, water flinging off my sleeves. “But it’s not … it’s not that.”
His eyes darken, shoulders stiffening beneath his damp shirt. “What if it is?”
My pulse stumbles, then races, like my body knows something my brain refuses to admit.
“What if Iamfalling for you?” he says, lower now. “What if I have been since you stepped off that golf cart in those damn high heels?”
I shake my head and push past him. “That’s impossible.”
“Why?” He’s almost jogging to keep up with me. “Because it’s only been a short time and we didn’t get to test our love at IKEA?”
“Exactly!”
“Roxanne …” he catches up again and tugs my arm. “Roxanne, stop. You know what I think?”
“I don’t want to know. You’re not in love, and this isn’t anything.”
I break away, and I’m practically running now, but Duke is faster. He skids to a stop on the trail and puts both his hands up.
“Stop!”
“No!” I protest.
“Roxanne,” he says, not letting me pass. “Just?—”
I meet his eyes and try to slow my breath.
“Stop,” he says.
