“Lisa.” His voice is husky, and he’s staring at me like he’s never seen me before.
Maybe he hasn’t. Not without makeup. “Hello.”
“Lisa. God, you’re beautiful.” He takes a shaky breath. “Wait, let me start over. This isn’t about what you look like.”
He steps closer, almost close enough now to touch me. But he doesn’t, and I’m glad. Not that my whole body isn’t screaming for it, but it’s his words I want most right now. Why is he here?
“Look, I fucked up.” He clears his throat. “As apologies go, I know that’s pretty piss-poor.”
I smile a little at that. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay.” He rakes his hands through his hair and shakes his head. “I got so hung up on bringing you into my world that I didn’t stop and think about how selfish that was. That I owed you the same damn courtesy.”
His words touch me, but I keep my shoulders squared. I don’t want him to see how hurt I still am. “You don’t owe me anything, Dax,” I say softly. “We were clear from the beginning how things would be.”
“That’s just it.” He shakes his head again and reaches out to touch my hand. “Things changed. For me, anyway. I don’t know when I realized I was falling in love with you, but it scared the holy living shit out of me and I panicked. I panicked and said stupid things, and I’m sorry.”
“Wait, what?”
I replay his words in my head, trying to figure out how we got from I fucked up to I love you. Is that what he just said? Or was it loved, past tense, as in he doesn’t anymore?—
“I can see the wheels turning in your brain, and it’s one of the sexiest things about you. Your brain, I mean.” He smiles and squeezes my fingers. “Don’t look so shocked,” he adds. “Yeah, I love you. I fucking said it.”
There’s a defiant expression on his face, but something vulnerable, too. Like he’s daring me to argue, to laugh at him, to walk away.
I do none of those things. I twine my fingers through his and squeeze hard enough to keep the tears at bay. “Dax?—”
“I love you,” he says again, and I realize I could never tire of hearing those words. Not from him, anyway. “I love the Lisa Michaels who goes camping and sings karaoke, but I also love the Lisa Michaels who hoards handbags and knows the difference between a crudité and charcuterie.”
“The veggies and meats and cheeses play off each other nicely, so it’s best to have both.”
Shut up, Lisa.
Dax just laughs. “And that’s the other thing. I love that you’re smart. Though the fact that you spent a month sleeping with a dumbshit like me calls that into question.”
“You’re not dumb, Dax.” The passion in my voice is so fierce, even he looks surprised. “Anyone who can start his own company from scratch—who can overcome barriers like poverty and loss and dyslexia and?—”
“You know?” His eyes widen, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him look totally unsure in this conversation.
“About the dyslexia?” I nod and tighten my grip on his fingers. “Yes. Sarah figured it out,” I say slowly. “And it doesn’t make me think less of you. In fact, it makes me love you more.”
It takes him a second to register what I just said. When he does, his whole face breaks into a grin. He pulls me close, his chest warm and solid through the terrycloth of our robes.
“Yeah, I fuckin’ said it,” I murmur, doing my best to imitate his earlier line as his lips find mine. “I love you, too.”
His kiss is deep and dizzying and leaves me tingling all the way to my toes. When he draws back, we’re both a little breathless.
“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I got scared and ran. But if you give me another chance, I promise my days of being a chickenshit are over. I’m in this for the long-haul.”
“Me, too.” I clasp his hands tighter, breathing in his familiar smell. “And I’m sorry, too.”
“What the hell for?”
“For treating you like a tour guide to the seedier side of life,” I say. “For making you feel devalued.”
“You didn’t.” He shakes his head, his expression adamant. “You never did. I’m the one who let myself get caught up in that bullshit story.”
I tip my head back to study him, in awe of this man standing in front of me. He’s the same Dax I fell in love with, but there’s a rawness there I never saw before. A bravery and openness that steals my breath away.
