Yet just in that moment, a recollection of that text exchange came to mind.
2 grand says you don’t even get past second base…
…one step at a time, my friend…
…more of a prude than I thought…
The warmth surrounding her heart went cold in one, frantic beat. What was she thinking?Fake fiancé with benefits, remember?
She couldn’t assume Sawyer loved her because of a moment like this. Intimacy could be a misleading thing. It meant different things for different people. And somehow Betzy knew that if she let things go too far, recovering from the damage would be more than she could bear.
Sure, Betzy wanted to believe he was kissing her because he felt exactly the same way, but she knew better than that, didn’t she? Sawyer, like most of the guys she’d dated, didn’t want someone with more money or power than he had. It was what the article was all about. And it was probably right.
With a nagging regret in the back of her mind, Betzy pulled away, putting an end to their kiss. The greater part of her was in flight mode. Something had rocked her mental boat, and she needed to sort through her thoughts before she did something stupid.
“It’s late,” she breathed against his mouth. She lifted her head to kiss him once more, reminding herself that it might be their last.
Sawyer drew out the kiss with the gentle pull of her bottom lip, then sighed. “Betzy…”
She waited there, feeling vulnerable in the intimate moment, dreading what he might say. Would he ask her to spend the night with him? He might decide it was only fair after all he was doing for her.
He might also be determined to clear things up.This is just for fun, you know that right? I don’t see this going anywhere after we’re through.
Those were words she couldn’t fathom hearing. “Let’s say goodnight,” she blurted before he said anything more.
“I’ve got something I want—”
“Please, Sawyer. I think it’s best if you don’t…if we just stay focused on what we’re doing here. Okay?”
Sawyer went lax, his form growing heavy for a beat. “Fine. If that’s what you’d like,” he said, voice raspy and raw.
He sat up slowly, then took her hand to help her do the same. After Betzy climbed down from the chair, she spotted the crack of light beneath the door and walked to it. She swung it wide open, then realized Sawyer was still sitting on the recliner.
“You coming?” she asked, hopeful that he’d still walk her to her room. Still want to hold her hand or rub her back or possibly even kiss her goodnight.
“No,” he said. “You go ahead.”
Disappointment struck her like sharp darts.
He was angry that she’d stopped things from going further.
What difference did it make?Sawyer was doing what she’d asked him to do. Come next week, he’d propose to her on live TV for the whole country to see. That’s what this was for, after all.
But once their time came and went, Betzy would be left with a heart that belonged more to Sawyer than it did her. Over the week, he’d managed to fill nearly every part. Once he left, and she’d trimmed all of those parts away, Betzy had to wonder if there’d be anything left.
Chapter 17
Sawyer balled up his fist and gave the leather chair a good hard punch. He’d been so close to saying it, to telling her he loved her, and she’d stopped him.
He shook his head in frustration. Shehadheard him say it the first time, hadn’t she? Betzy had heard it, but she’d pretended she hadn’t. The reason for that was clear—she didn’t feel the same.
His gut twisted anew. Why had he tried to say it again? After she’d dodged it the first time, Sawyer’s second attempt had nearly forced her into saying what she didn’t want to say.Sorry, Sawyer. You’ve done good for yourself, you really have, but I could never be married to someone like you.
Sawyer was starting to think the article was on to something. If a man like him wasn’t good enough for Betzy, if she felt she was somehow still “too rich” for blood like his, perhaps she really was destined to be alone.
He made it back to his room with slow steps. Years of effort, longing, and hope. All of it lay in ruins on that theater chair in the Benton’s cabin just days before Christmas.
When he made it to his room at last, Sawyer couldn’t fathom the thought of spending another night in that space. Not after it had all been crushed so thoroughly. So he pulled out his phone, arranged for a driver to pick him up, and scribbled out a note to leave on his bed.
