“She was looking at houses,” Tim said. “We both wanted children. Marriage seemed like the logical next step.”
Children.
I was suddenly, excruciatingly aware of him, of his body, the quick rise of his chest, the dense muscles of his back. Of how he would be in bed, solid and methodical. My face got hot.
“What about sex?” I blurted.
His mouth twitched. “I’m in favor of it, generally.”
A joke, not an answer. Obviously, Tim Woodman was not the type to kiss and tell.
“Did you love her?” I persisted. “Do you love her?”
“Now? No.” Chopped short. An obvious signal to let it go.
I didn’t, of course. The possibility that Tim might be heartbroken—or worse, pining—was like probing a wound or picking at a scab, painful and irresistible. “It’s all right,” I said. “It would be natural if you still had feelings.”
“I assume you’re speaking from experience.”
He meant Gray. Flustered, I took my plate to the sink. “I’m just saying, when somebody hurts you like that, it leaves a scar. You can heal, but you’re never quite the same.”
He shot me an unreadable look.
I flushed. Probably I shouldn’t have mentioned the scar thing. There was his knee. And who knew what other injuries, hidden under his clothes. Not that I was picturing him naked...
Tim sighed. “I assure you, I have no attachment to Laura. I’ve moved on.”
“Really? Has there been anyone since?”
“There could be.”
Oh. I busied myself putting our plates in the dishwasher, regretting I’d ever brought the subject up. I didn’t want to know if Tim was interested in someone. Did I?
I waited. Nothing.
I turned, propping my hips against the sink. “You know, you can take this whole buttoned-up Brit act too far. It wouldn’t hurt you to open up once in a while. Especially if you’re involved with somebody.”
“I’ve actually been quite open,” he said steadily.
“Ha.”
“If she doesn’t know how I feel at this point, it’s because she doesn’t want to see.”
My heart slammed into my ribs. “Meaning, you haven’t told her.”
He met my eyes. “I’ve always thought actions speak louder than words.”
My pulse stuttered. “And you are a man of action,” I teased.
A corner of his mouth tipped up. “Yes.”
The energy surged back, a thousand pins and needles under my skin. The air was charged, thick with anticipation and doubt.
This was a risk, this was always a risk... I had a stubborn tendency to imagine things that weren’t there, to ignore facts that were staring me in the face. Tim might not mean what I thought he meant. He might not feel what I hoped he felt. He might say no.
I swallowed. His gaze dropped briefly to my throat.
If she doesn’t know how I feel at this point, it’s because she doesn’t want to see.
