“Well, tell that to the multitudes of people who hold on to crazy because they’re too afraid to be alone.” I rested my head back on his shoulder.
“Are you scared to try again?” he asked quietly.
“Are you?” I countered and looked up at him.
His gaze steadied on mine. “Not anymore.”
“Why?” I asked softly, and his eyes focused on my mouth.
“You know why.” He suddenly shook his head and whistled. “You got me twisted.”
I snorted. “Both ways, sir. I can’t tell if you seriously want to be with me or you’re trying me on for size to see if I’m a good fit.”
“What’s wrong with that? Aren’t you doing the same with me?” He arched a brow. “Trying to see if I’ll hurt you, if I’m sincere? Fighting against whatever misconceptions and conceptions you have about me? Something or someone has made it hard for you to trust or believe in love besides your parents.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Yeah. Most people get back out there when a relationship ends. You didn’t.” Canaan shifted, resting his back against the sofa arm, and pulled me between his legs as the waves lulled us under the orange moon and bright stars. “Tell me about the man who hurt you.”
I snuggled deeper on his chest. “Funny how thinking about him doesn’t hurt anymore when I used to think I would never get over him.”
Canaan asked, his voice gruff. “Who was he?”
I smoothed out the wrinkles on his forehead. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous of a man who means nothing to me now.”
“He hurt you . . . So yeah, I’m jealous of the man who made it hard for you to trust me.”
“Not just you. He made it harder for any man.” I gave a short laugh. “Oh, he shattered my heart with a sledgehammer and threw it to the lions for dinner.”
Canaan whistled. “Damn, Kens. What did he do?”
“He loved the challenge of me. I was focused and starting grad school. He pursued me as if I were the only woman for him. Against my better judgment, I finally gave him a chance, fell in love, and we moved in together. Then one day, I came home early and caught him and another woman in our bed.”
“You must have fucked him up and the woman pretty badly,” Canaan commented and brushed his hand over my hair. “If you threatened a knife at the thought of a woman trying to get with me, I can’t imagine what you did to them.”
“I’m not the badass I sometimes pretend to be. I didn’t do anything. Not even curse him out. I was too hurt, stunned, and ashamed even to be angry. The woman ran, and he followed me, half-dressed, apologizing while I packed what I could and moved out immediately. I haven’t looked back since. I felt so foolish that I wasted any time on him when my gut told me we weren’t right. I decided that I would be happy by my damn self.” I finally met his sympathetic gaze. “So, if you’re worried that I expect any sort of commitment after our time here, don’t. I plan to enjoy my time with you while we’re here, be your biggest fan, then peacefully go our separate ways in Houston.”
Canaan’s jaw tightened before pressing his lips gently against my forehead. “Then let’s enjoy our time here. We’ll worry about what happens when we’re back in Houston when that day comes.”
“This is a magical night. Just you and me talking and sharing a good meal.” I kissed his goatee. “Thanks for this. I know how you’ve been on the grind, and I never expected a date, and definitely not on a yacht in the middle of the Atlantic surrounded by all this beauty. I can add this experience to my book.” I wiggled my fingers like a mad scientist.
Canaan propped his arms behind his head. “Can you go a moment without thinking of work?”
“It’s no more work than racing is work. When you do something you love, it doesn’t feel like work.” I picked up his wineglass from the floor of the deck
“You have your own glass,” he drawled, his southern and island accent pronounced.
“Yours always tastes better.” I shrugged and took a sip. “You haven’t really eaten anything. At least try the lamb. It’s divine.” I sliced a piece from the plate on the table and forked it up to his mouth. “Open.”
He frowned. “What do I get if I try it?”
Popping the meat in my mouth, I grabbed his chin and opened his mouth with mine. His tongue received the morsel of food while we kissed. I pecked his lips before lifting my head. He smiled as he chewed. “I don’t know if it’s the lamb or your tongue that tastes this good.”
“It’s both.” I sliced more meat and used my fork to feed him, which he ate willingly. “Now, I know how to get you to try new foods.”
“If you let me put food all over your sexy body, especially your ass, I’ll try anything,” he smirked.
“You’re horrible,” I accused with a devilish smile, looking forward to exploring sex with him. I pushed off his chest to sit up. “Dance with me.”
