“Because I’ll only ruin you,” he whispers against my skin.
Ruin me for other men, yes but I know that’s not what he’s referring to. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“No?” He keeps his lips barely pressed against my skin.
“No because I know you.”
“And what is it that you know, Grace? What is it that makes you think I won’t ruin you?”
“Because I can’t think of a better man than you, Oak. You would never ruin someone you care for.”
He inhales deeply. “You make me want to give in,” he confesses on a breath. “But I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because believe it or not bynotpursuing this I am protecting you.” He then presses a tender kiss to the curve of my neck. My knees go weak.
Then my body feels the ache of him when he steps away putting a healthy distance between us.
I turn, leaning my back against the countertop as I stare up at him.
A beautiful tortured man is what I see before me. A man who came home but never stopped fighting a war. He can fool everyone else but he can’t fool me.
“And you’re wrong,” he says lowly.
“About what?”
“I have ruined those I’ve cared for. And I don’t want that to happen to you.”
My heartstrings pull. Compelled to comfort him, to be nearer to him I close the distance he created.
I lay my open palm gently on his chest right on top of his heart. “I trust you.”
His eyes slice open with vulnerability and pain. “You shouldn’t.”
“Then if you won’t allow me to trust you I have faith in you. And you can’t take that away from me.”
“Grace,” he says my name and it both sounds like a prayer and his damnation to Hell.
I keep my palm on his chest and I take another step closer. The bare tips of our toes touching one another’s. “You can fight this all you want but soon you won’t be able to.”
He swallows, the muscle in his jaw straining. His chest tight. “Why do you think I avoided you? Not because I wanted to. Because I knew if I got closer to you I wouldn’t be able to keep my damn hands off of you.”
My heart beats like a fucking sledgehammer. Pounding against my chest so hard that I’m afraid it just might burst out right into his hands.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He delicately wraps his fingers around my wrist and pulls my hand off him. “Believe me, Grace, it is.”
“So what are you going to do, Oak?” I begin to ask him, not able to hide my hurt and anger. “Are you going to avoid me for the rest of your life? How is that fair to me?”
“No,” he sighs defeatedly. “I’ve already lost that battle.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’ll no longer avoid you. I’m saying that I’ll be there for you whenever you need me. But you can’t need me in that way, Grace. As a friend, yes but as anything more, no.”
And then the sledgehammer beats down on my heart. Crushing it with every word he says. If I was a lesser woman I would believe what he said. If I was a different type of woman I would walk away. But I’m not. I’m the one who wears her heart on her sleeve. The one who cares. Who sticks around even if she isn’t wanted.
