Elise winked and made herself scarce.
“Hmmm, Juan. You got all the skills.” Tilly moaned with appreciation. Her lips tugged up at the edges.
Brayden jerked his hands back. “What?”
Tilly giggled. “I knew it was you.” She reached up and grabbed his hands. “Don’t stop.”
He glared but got back to work. He wasn’t going to complain about her teasing if she was letting him touch her. And she was teasing him—which was huge!
“I should tell you to go away, but this feels way too good.” She moaned softly. “You are almost as good as Juan at this.”
“I’ll take that as a win.”
She sighed, but the sound was content, not frustrated.
There was so much between them that it felt as if he was standing on the other side of the room. He needed to make his way to her. He needed to see if she would let him near.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy,” he started.
“Ss-okay.” She rolled her head to the side, and he ran his fingers down her neck.
“I’m sorry for so many things.”
She went still, and he got the feeling that whatever he said next was going to either make or break his chances with her. This could be his third ball, or it could be a beautiful pitch.
Her eyes remained closed and his touch grew light, caressing. He concentrated on the slope of her neck and the smoothness of her skin. “I’m sorry that I pushed you away. I thought I was saving you from me, from life with a crippled man—crippled in so many ways. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I acted stupid.”
He went around her and crouched down, taking her hands in his. She opened her eyes and held his gaze. She needed to hear all this; she needed to know these things in her heart. He could feel that need coming off of her, and his soul cried out for him to make things right between them.
“I should have asked you what you wanted. I should have been there for you. I should have wiped your tears and told you I didn’t blame you for what happened. This one is on me, love. It’s on me.” He patted his chest with a flat hand. “I messed up big time, and I’m so sorry for hurting you.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Her scent of cactus flowers was so familiar that it warmed him and set his blood to boil for this woman.
Her breaths sped up, and as it always did when he was close to Tilly, when she became his whole world, time slowed down.
“I’m going to kiss you now.” He ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “It doesn’t mean you forgive me if you kiss me back, you know.”
She nodded slightly, her eyes heavy and her cheeks flushed. She wanted his kiss as much as he wanted to give it. When their lips came together, color and light exploded behind his eyes. She was warm, her hands eager to dig into the hair at the back of his neck. He pulled her to the edge of the chair and wrapped his arms around her back. They were lost in one another, a mixture of pain and apology, heartache and healing.
She tore herself away, tears gathering in her eyes.
“Please don’t cry.” He pulled her to his chest. “Tell me the truth—tell me what hurt the most, and I’ll fix it. I’ll fix them all.”
She hiccupped, and he could feel her gathering her courage to say words she knew were going to stab at him but had to be delivered. “You made me feel like what we had didn’t matter.”
“That was the biggest mistake of my life. It matters, Tills. It matters more than baseball and this job. More than anything.Youmatter more than anything.”
She hiccupped again.
“That was why I thought I had to let you go. I wasn’t enough for you.”
She shoved him, and he gave her space. Space to be angry. Space to feel all that she was feeling. Space to turn him away if she wanted, to because as much as he wanted her, he wanted her to be happy more.
“But I want to be the man for you. I’d rather work every day at being that good than see you with someone else.”
She chuckled. “I guess I owe Gunner for that one.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t him.”
“Rowdy?”
