“What if what, sweetheart?”
Her gaze returned to him. “I feel so bad about Jonathan. For Jonathan. I mean, as I told you before, I’d thought about breaking up with him before he broke it off with me. But, what if…I don’t mean to hurt you, I really don’t. I’m so confused and worried.”
Cap’s heart seized in fear of where she was going with this, and at her pause, a lump clogged his throat, preventing him from speaking. Stopping him from trying to convince her that what they shared was real.
Her eyes watered. “What if I’m just replacing him with you and I don’t realize it? What if this thing between us is just adrenaline, fear, or confusion? It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
Cap stayed silent. He’d finally broken out of his hermit crab shell and fallen for a woman who didn’t know what she wanted or where she was going. His chest tightened, and his heart begged him to speak, to convince her that what they shared was real. His brain, though, registered anger and hurt as if he’d been used.
He cleared his throat.
“Emma…” he leaned back and stopped touching her cheek.
His hand went cold.
“I’ll give you the space you need if that’s what you want. I’m not here to fill the void or compete with a dead man.”
“Cap, I’m really screwing this up. This is not at all how I wanted this conversation to go. Let me try again.”
He liked the sound of that.
Emma’s dark gaze intensified. “It scares me how much I want you. But considering all that is going on, I want to make sure it is real, for your sake, because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. Do you know what I mean?”
Cap’s heart thudded. She cared enough to worry about him. Cared enough for him to make sure her feelings for him were real. That depth of consideration meant she really cared for him, and that was good enough for him to go on for now. All she needed was a little time to prove to herself this was the real deal. He could wait for that.
He pulled her into an embrace and kissed the top of her head.
“I understand. I’ll take my cues from you.”
When he released her, she stepped back and held his gaze.
“Thank you.”
Then, she pulled her gaze from his and looked around.
“This is a nice suite.”
That was for sure. It looked like a little apartment. Kitchen, living room, bedroom, and a balcony that spanned the length of the living room and bedroom, both of which had a set of sliding glass doors.
Emma looked over her shoulder toward the bathroom then moved in that direction, snagging her makeup bag off the dresser. From the doorway, she leaned back and focused her gaze on him.
She pointed into the room. “Look at the size of the jetted tub.”
He peeked around her, looking into the room. With as beat and battered as he was, that tub with jets looked inviting.
“I’m getting in there,” she said without hesitation.
“What about your stitches?”
“I’ll prop my foot up or hang it over the side. I don’t care which, but I’m getting in that tub. I need that tub.”
He didn’t doubt she did. A good soaking to ease her physical pain and a relaxing moment to ease her mind after the heavy conversation they’d just shared. The same might be good for him as well.
She leaned over and turned on the hot water. Then she stripped down, exposing her battered body. The worst of the bruising was on her forearms and shins. Thin scrapes covered her feet, except for the side of her foot where the stitches were. That spot was dark red, almost maroon.
His heart pinched at the sight of the large eggplant colored bruise on her right hip. That one must have hurt like hell. Yet, she didn’t complain.
Emma stepped into the tub with her left foot and then carefully crouched down, working to keep her right foot propped up on the edge.
