After raking in a deep breath, he blurted, “When ya first came here, I thought ya were the sexiest woman I’d ever seen.”
She rolled her eyes. “When I first came here, I was terrified, malnourished, mourning my brother, and so traumatized I could barely see straight.”
“Exactly.” He pointed at her nose. That straight, perfect nose he’d stared at dozens of times when she didn’t know he was looking. “You were all of that. Which is why I made myself not see how sexy ya were. You didn’t need some big, hairy guy lustin’ after ya. You needed a friend.”
Her face softened. “Your friendship means everything to me.” Her tone was so earnest it hurt. “I don’t think I would’ve made it without you.”
“You’d have made it. You’re tough.”
Her eyes melted then, like molasses warming on a stove. “And you’re tender. Tender is what I needed. I’m not sure I’ve ever thanked you for that.”
“I’m not always tender,” he assured her. “I’ve got impulses and instincts like any other man. But I got used to white-knucklin’ it. I think maybe I got too used to it. I didn’t notice when things changed for you.” He watched the pulse flutter in her neck as delicately as a butterfly’s wings. He wanted to cover it with his lips to soothe its rhythm.
“It’s why I didn’t realize you were hintin’ ya wanted more,” he finished, lifting his hands in a helpless shrug.
Her words about one door closing and another opening whispered through his head. I have Martin now. He dropped his hands so he could curl them around the edge of the mattress.
“It wasn’t like a switch flipped one day,” she explained, still caressing the lobster’s claws. “It happened slowly.” She made a sad face. “Because I was scared.”
“Of me?” He hated the very thought.
“Of me.” Her voice cracked, just a little. “The idea of being intimate with someone terrified me. What if I freaked out in the middle of it? What if I couldn’t relax and enjoy myself? What if I found out that the part of me that…Eddy took”—she curled her lip like saying the man’s name made her sick—“was gone for good?”
He pictured Eddy Torres’s face. And he hoped there was a hell, because he hoped the bastard was burning in it.
Her expression turned sheepish. “I figured who better than my good friend Hew to see me through it?” Her chuckle sounded self-deprecating. “But now I realize that was unfair of me. I was being unfair to you.”
Unfair? he wanted to shout. In what world?
Then, her words sank in. My good friend Hew. She wasn’t confessing to romance or love. She was confessing to comfort and convenience.
He was her friend. He was safe. He wouldn’t judge her if things went pear-shaped in the thick of it.
What was that feeling tumbling around behind his ribs?
Disappointment?
“And now you have Martin.” Could she hear how the words dripped like bitter bile from his tongue?
“Maybe.” She nodded, and he felt a small kernel of hope lodge under his heart because maybe wasn’t a definitive yes. “He’s definitely expressed interest.”
“I’m sure he has,” he grumbled, his jaw working back and forth.
“But I haven’t told him about…” She swallowed. “What happened to me. And I’m going to have to before we…” Her cheeks heated, and she dropped his gaze. “Before we do anything.”
He made a decision then.
It was an irresponsible, hasty, reckless decision. It was a decision that might very well break his heart in the end. But the words were out of his mouth before he could think about the consequences.
“Or you could still let me be the one.”
27
Sabrina’s brain chose that moment to stop comprehending English.
She knew the look she gave Hew was the same one she might give a guy who’d suddenly sprouted corn cobs from his ears. And as soon as she opened her mouth, she closed it again because the words caught in her throat. She had to press a hand to her chest to make sure her heart was still beating.
Yup. More than beating. Racing out of control.
