He didn’t want to be her boss. A partner made more sense. The way he’d been looking at the whole situation between them was wrong. With him as her boss, it couldn’t work. But he wanted to be with her, not just temporary. He wanted her to be his partner.
In business and life.
He’d get her a real ring this time. His mother’s engagement ring.
Selfishly unwilling to think about what his mother would have said about how badly he’d screwed up with Lucy, he’d left her letter on the counter. Now, the last words his mother had written to him were ashes in Camelot, opening nearly a decade of regret so deep it could swallow him whole.
But he had Lucy.
She had worn a ring once for him. He’d ask her to wear one again. This time there would be candlelight and roses and promises he would keep forever.I love you.He swallowed the words, unsure if she was ready to hear them.
“No one’s ever stood up to my parents like that.” She twisted the pillow behind her and flinched.
“Do you need something for the pain?”
“I’m good.” She bit her lip between her teeth.
He didn’t buy it. This must’ve reflected in his face because her expression hardened.
“Will, serious.” She untangled her fingers and patted the edge of the bed. “I’m fine.”
He still wasn’t buying it.
She couldn’t be fine.
He stood and leaned a hip against the bed.
The expression that passed across her face punched him in the gut.
“Luce. I’m so sorry. About what happened with the picture, and the name, and the story. I am so, so sorry.”
God, he could suffocate in her and not even care. The woman was in a hospital bed, had been through hell, and he wanted nothing more than to ravage her senseless.
She fidgeted with the blanket covering her legs, unable or unwilling to meet his gaze.
He gestured to her waist. “Does it hurt?”
Stupid question. Of course it hurt.
She shook her head and scrunched her nose. “Stings mostly.”
His throat worked against the convulsions of a cough building in his chest. The coughing fit overwhelmed him.
“Will?”
“I’m okay.” His vocal cords felt like they’d been scoured with nails.
Her gaze finally caught his. “I never told you thank you. Last night. For everything you did.”
He would throw himself in front of a train for her, just to have her look at him like she did before he’d found the photo. Used the horrible nickname.
He was so far gone for her. “I’d do it all again for you. But I’d do it better.” Hello, cheesy. A dash of carbon monoxide poisoning clearly fried his brain.
“You shouldn’t be sweet to me,” she whispered.
“Why’s that?”
“We need to talk.” She glanced at her hands on the bed.
