He wants me.
The realization was dizzying. She’d known he was attracted to her, but this was deeper than just attraction. This was a male who had spent half a decade building walls and refusing to let anyone close. And she had somehow gotten under his skin without even trying.
“Actually,” Nichola continued, oblivious to Sara’s internal crisis, “I was thinking about offering again this year. I heard he carried some woman home from the tavern last week, and I thought maybe he was finally loosening up.”
Posy choked on her margarita.
“What?” Nichola looked confused. “It’s just a rumor, but?—”
“Nichola.” Posy’s voice was strangled. “The woman he carried home was Sara.”
A beat of silence.
Then Nichola’s face went through a fascinating journey—confusion to realization to mortification to something that looked almost like awe.
“Oh my God.” She stared at Sara, her eyes wide. “Oh myGod. You’re the one. You’re the one who finally—” She cut herself off, clapping a hand over her mouth. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I would never have… I mean, obviously I wouldn’t actually offer if he’s already… Not that you two are… But clearly there’s?—”
“Breathe,” she said, finding herself oddly calm despite everything. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine! I basically just said I wanted to bone your… whatever he is?—”
“My grumpy, emotionally constipated neighbor who keeps shoveling my driveway and then running away from his feelings? Who kisses me like the world is ending and then calls it a mistake?”
Nichola blinked. Then she laughed, a bright, delighted sound that drew looks from nearby tables.
“Oh, I like you.” She reached across the table to squeeze Sara’s hand. “And for what it’s worth? That male has been a locked box since he rolled into town. If you’re the one with the key…” She shook her head, still grinning. “Don’t let him run. He’s been alone long enough.”
She looked down at her margarita, now mostly water. The ice had melted just like Elara predicted. But something warm had kindled in her chest—something that felt like hope.
Ben had spent six years denying himself. Six years of control, of walls, of keeping everyone at arm’s length. And in three weeks, she had somehow made him lose control so completely that he’d kissed her against a fence post in broad daylight.
He’s scared,she realized.Not of me, but of how much he wants me.
And yes, he’d called it a mistake. Yes, he’d pulled away. But he’d also said something else, something that had almost gotten lost in the hurt of his rejection.
I care too much to hurt you.
He wasn’t running because he didn’t want her. He was running because he wanted her so much it terrified him.
Well. Sara wasn’t about to let a good male get away just because he was scared.
“You’re smiling,” Posy observed. “That’s either a good sign or a very bad one.”
“I’m thinking.”
“Contemplating again?”
“No.” She drained the last of her watery margarita and set the glass down with a decisive clink. “Planning.”
Nichola leaned forward, eyes wide with interest. “Planning what?”
Her smile widened. “How to convince a certain grumpy rabbit that running away isn’t an option anymore.”
Elara’s laugh was like wind chimes. “Oh, this is going to be entertaining.”
“For you, maybe. I’m the one who has to figure out how to corner an emotionally repressed Other who’s terrified of his own feelings.”
“Yes, but you have advantages.” Posy’s eyes twinkled. “You know his weakness now.”
