“My emotions?” he scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous to admit you love someone, Tommy.” She stared him down. “I’ve loved you since I was ten years old. It was a pure, innocent sort of love, but it was real. When my father forbade us from seeing each other, I thought my heart had cracked in two. But that’s nothing to the pain I feel now. Last night, I told you I love you, and you pretended to be asleep. Guess what, Tommy?” She rose to her knees and jabbed a finger in his face. “I know you love me back. You’re just too cowardly to admit it.”
“I’m no coward,” he growled, scrambling to his knees beside her. “And you’re wrong. I care about you, deeply, but love is for fools. It’s for masochists, and I refuse to flagellate myself again.”
“Aha! You said again.”
“I misspoke.”
“Then let me remind you of an old saying: Actions speak louder than words.” She gave him a smug grin. “And you, Tommy, have made the grave mistake of treating me better than anyone else in my life ever has. You simply can’t stop showing me how much you love me. Even your stupid decision to push me away was based on love. So this is really all your fault.”
He surged to his feet and began to pace. “Goddammit.”
“Admit it.”
“Don’t love me,” he snapped. “Just…don’t. Give your love to someone who deserves it more.”
Deserve.
There was that blasted word again. He used it to construct walls between them, to push her aside where he thought she’d be safe from him. The last time she’d let it happen, they hadn’t spoken for years. She couldn’t let that happen again. Before she could utter another word, he thrust his feet into his boots and moved to the door.
“Wait.” Her voice was shrill. “Don’t go.”
He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I’ll gather some extra firewood. Then it’s time for me to leave.”
The door softly clicked shut behind him. The consideration sent a spark of rage through her. She stalked across the room and wrenched the door open.
“Good luck avoiding the rest of my booby traps,” she shouted at his retreating back. He whipped his head around just in time for her to slam the door shut.
As quickly as it had arrived, the rage fled, leaving her boneless, empty. She sank to the floor, one hand pressed to her midriff. She’d pressed Tommy too hard. He was leaving, and she had no one to blame but herself.
Tommy poked at a strange-looking twig sticking out of a snowbank. It wobbled back and forth in the breeze, but no snare catapulted into the air. The ground held steady. Tommy shook his head at his skittishness, but he couldn’t forget the terrifying moment he’d fallen into a snow pit. God only knew what other booby traps Imogen had hidden around her haven.
His outrageous, endearing Imogen.
He rubbed a frozen hand across his eyes and muttered a curse. Once again, he was out in the snow, ill-prepared and on the verge of losing his mind. A fine punishment for his most recent crimes. Imogen’s anguished expression swam before his eyes and his stomach heaved. The most incredible woman in the world loved him, and rather than break free of the chains binding his heart, he’d turned tail like a mongrel.
What was wrong with him?
Giving a pile of suspicious stones a wide berth, he trudged toward the rack of firewood beside the outhouse. A dainty snowflake caught in his eyelashes, and he paused to wipe it clean. He looked up and his breath caught. He’d been so occupied by his thoughts he hadn’t noticed the winter wonderland before him.
The air itself carried a hushed quality, as if the world had collectively decided to lower its volume in deference to the pristine beauty surrounding him. It invoked a peacefulness he’d only recently discovered was possible. He’d felt the same way when he held Imogen in his arms before the fire. When he read aloud to her in bed. When she draped herself over him and whispered every single thought in her sharp, impressive mind. He pulled the faded handkerchief from his pocket and stared at their intertwining initials. He was willing to give all that up for…what?
“I’m making a goddamned mistake.”
Swiveling on his heel, he hurried back to the cabin. The wooden door banged against the wall at his forceful entry, but he didn’t stop to check for damage. He crossed the floor in three strides and sank to his knees in front of a slack-jawed Imogen.
“I love you.” He wrapped his arms around her hips and pressed his lips to her stomach. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” With each declaration, it was as if a heavy burden was lifted from his chest, and the tension that had gripped him for so long began to unravel.
Imogen shuddered out a long breath. “Finally.”
He smiled against her midriff. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“That doesn’t solve everything,” she warned. “We still have things to discuss.”
He rose to his feet and pulled her to the rocking chair. Once she was comfortably in his lap, he began. “In my family, expressing emotions was a sign of weakness. We gritted our teeth and we worked harder. My teachers were no better, so I stopped going to school. My life was bland, empty. Then I met you.” He squeezed her thigh. “Truthfully, you overwhelmed me. I had never met someone who wore their heart on their sleeve. It intrigued me, made me want to try again.”
Imogen sighed. “Was your first attempt on my father?”
