I grabbed her hand before she could keep it away from me and I pressed it against the center of my chest. “I know. But that’s not what he did this time. He told me from the beginning I didn’t have to try to befriend you. It wasn’t like those other times before.”
She looked at me, her eyebrows pinched as if doubting but maybe, finally ready to listen to what I had to say. “Then what exactly was it like?”
I smiled. “I believe his exact words were for me to break up the monotony of your day. I could make you mad or make you laugh, as long as I made some kind of contact to force you into a little human interaction.”
Her expression grew thoughtful. She was trying to decide if she wanted to buy my story or not, if she liked my story or not.
I sighed. “He knew it was wrong to try to buy you friends before; he admitted that to me. He realized he wanted people to like you because of who you were, not because of how much he could pay them, so his instructions to me were actually not to become your friend.”
Shaking her head, she admitted, “That doesn’t make sense.”
With a smile, I admitted, “Yeah, it didn’t make much sense to me either. But he thought…” I winced.
“What?” she urged. “Just say it.”
I groaned away before admitting, “He thought you’d be attracted to me, and it’d help distract you from how lonely you felt.”
Her lips parted. She stared at me for an uncomfortably long time. Then she licked her lips and said, “So…my dad bought me eye candy?”
I shrugged, my face flaming hot. “Pretty much, yeah. I think.”
“Oh my God.” She groaned and covered her eyes with both hands. “This is so humiliating.”
It had to be as embarrassing for her as it was for me, but I couldn’t handle her feeling discomfited. Shifting closer, I touched her shoulder, trying to comfort her, make it better. “What I don’t think he counted on, and hopefully he still doesn’t know, is that I was attracted to you right back.”
“Don’t,” she whimpered, shaking her head. “Please don’t say that. That’s just the Stockholm syndrome talking.”
With a laugh, I shook my head and pressed my forehead to hers before gently easing her hands away from her eyes so she’d look at me. When I got a peek at blue heaven from between the longest eyelashes ever made, I confessed, “No, that’s my heart talking.”
She sucked in a hard breath, but I knew she couldn’t believe me. Not yet.
“Think about it, Isobel,” I urged her. “I just had to make sure I was in your presence during a scheduled time. I didn’t have to come in early to run with you, or stay later to build bookshelves with you. I didn’t have to open up to you and tell you about my life, my biggest dreams. I didn’t have to fall in love with you. I did because…because I couldn’t help it.”
“Wait. You did what?” Her eyes grew big as if horrified. “What did you just say?”
I couldn’t repeat the words. My hands were already shaking and my voice was beginning to wobble. “I went further than he asked me to go. Got closer than I think he wanted me to get. And the fact of the matter is I’m worried as fuck what he’s going to do when he finds out just how close I’ve gotten to you. He told me he didn’t want me to befriend you; what the hell is he going to do when he learns I’ve fallen in—”
I shook my head and gulped for air. “What if it pisses him off and he fires me, breaks our deal and takes back all the loans he paid off for my mom? Hell, what if he tells me I can never see you again? Because that’s what freaks me out most. My mom and my own livelihood are at risk here, and all I can think about is how much I don’t want to lose you. Christ, I’m so messed up right now, I don’t—”
“Shh.” She pressed her fingers to my lips, stopping the flow of words.
I lifted my gaze to her. She gave me a gentle smile.
“Don’t worry. I’ll never let that happen to you.”
I kissed her fingers. “You believe me, then?” Worry still choked me, but hope was beginning to spring eternal. “You believe that this thing between us is real and has nothing to do with your dad?”
She swiped a piece of hair tenderly across my forehead and stared into my eyes. Then she nodded. “Yeah. I believe you.”
“Oh, thank God.” I sank into her, closing my eyes and resting my brow on her shoulder. “I was so sure you were going to drop me flat when I told you the truth. You have no idea how worried I was.”
“I’m glad you told me. Thank you for trusting me with the truth.”
I looked up and smiled. “I trust you with my heart. Giving you the truth was easy.”
chapter
NINETEEN
I might’ve followed Isobel around the rest of the day like an eager little child. I just had this pitch in my stomach, telling me not to let her out of my sight. What if she suddenly changed her mind and decided not to believe me after all? I mean, all she had to go on was my word alone and no physical proof whatsoever. Or what if she decided she felt deceived after all? Or she decided she didn’t like me? Or—
Okay, I might’ve been a tad paranoid. But could you blame me? I’d just bared my heart to this woman, fully expecting her to stomp on the organ and throw it back into my face. That’s what I deserved. But, no. She’d taken it all surprisingly well and believed me when I had nothing to back up my story. I wasn’t sure if I could trust such an easy resolution. And so instead, I probably annoyed the hell out of her by refusing to leave her all day.
Thank goodness she didn’t seem irritated by my neediness.
But I think she understood what I was doing, and she took full advantage of the situation. Knowing how eager I was to please her, she started asking personal questions, the really embarrassing, uncomfortable ones guys never liked girls to ask them, like how many girlfriends I’d ever had and when my last relationship had been.
I’d fumbled and stuttered, not sure how to answer, because honestly, it’d been so long I couldn’t even remember how many months it’d been. Definitely over a year since I’d been out with a woman, maybe going on two. So that’s what I told her.
Except, the return look she shot me was full of suspicion, making me throw my hands into the air and insist, “I’m serious. I’ve had a pretty long dry spell. For the last few years, Gloria’s chased off any female who’s even looked as if she might be interested in me.”
To which she tipped her head and squinted. “Who’s Gloria?”
I groaned. “Oh, God. Don’t get me started on Gloria.”
So of course, she got me started on Gloria. Ten minutes later, I was still complaining about the bane of my existence as I followed Isobel into the conservatory for the second time that day.
“…And then she said, ‘I understand, Shaw.’ But how the hell could she if she came back a week later, acting as if I didn’t just totally blow her off? I’m telling you, this whole Gloria thing is driving me nuts. Why won’t she just leave me alone already? She knows I’m not interested in her.”
Isobel looked amused as she pulled on her gloves. “Probably because she also knows you’re too nice to come right out and hurt her feelings with a hard brush-off.”
I sniffed. “But why? I don’t get why she likes me in the first place. The few times I ever did try to open up to her and let her in to see the real me, she didn’t like what she saw. She thought my dream to become an archeologist was silly. Her words. Freaking silly. I was serious as all get out and she laughed in my face over something that was important to me. So honestly, if she doesn’t care about what I want or need in my life, how the hell can she expect me to care about anything she wants? And why are you looking at me like that?”
Isobel shook her head, her eyes glittering as if entertained but also crinkled at the corners as if she were learning me, learning the most basic components about me.
“I’m not even sure where to start,” she murmured thoughtfully.
With a sigh, I leaned against a wooden beam wall of the greenhouse. “I’m that m
essed up, huh?”
“No.” She shook her head slowly. “You’re not messed up at all. You’re just…”
When she didn’t immediately answer, I swallowed, feeling as if she really did have something negative to say about me, something that told me how awful I was for not wanting anything to do with a girl who obviously adored me. God, I was a terrible, awful man, wasn’t I? The way she kept studying me made me squirm inside.
“What?” I demanded. “I’m just what?”
She shook her head. “You’re so delusional. You say you don’t know why she likes you in the first place, so it’s hard for me to get past that part, let alone consider the rest of what you said.”
“I don’t…what do you mean by that?”
“You’re a handsome guy. You’re a handsome, kind, considerate, likeable guy. And maybe a little too humble for your own good. Anyone would be drawn to that alone without ever getting to know the real you.”
“I’m not—” I wanted to argue, because hell, I really wasn’t that stand-up of a person. I was just…me. There were about fifty things wrong with me I could immediately start listing off the top of my head.
“And you have a good heart,” Isobel continued. “With as honest and sincere and kind as you are, people know they can trust you with just about anything, even their deepest darkest secrets. I’m just curious why more women in your neighborhood than just this Gloria lady aren’t after you as persistently as she is.”
I blew out a breath before clearing my throat, suddenly uncomfortable from all the praise. “You know I wasn’t angling for quite that many compliments, right?”
She shook her head. “I know you weren’t angling for any. I’m just telling it like I see it.”
My breath caught in my throat. She really did see me the way she described. It registered through my system like a shock. “Well, whatever the reason, it’s making me want to kiss you right now.” I pushed away from the wall to stroll near her.
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Trust me. I didn’t say it to—”
But it was too late. I grasped her hand and tugged her against me. “I’m going to kiss you anyway.” Then I dipped my head and brushed my mouth across hers.
Our lips shifted, clung and then pressed together before I cupped her face and deepened things. Tongues danced, bodies closed in, breaths quickened. My fingers slipped down the sides of her neck, then her back until I was clutching her ass. Damn, it felt even better against my fingers than it looked in yoga pants.
When a moan sang from her throat, I lifted her slightly, rubbing us together, letting her feel my arousal, taste my passion.
“I can’t get enough of you,” I admitted, trailing the tip of my nose along the front of her throat. Her scent clouded my nostrils and we both shuddered.
Hand clasping my shoulder, her fingers bit through the cloth of my shirt as she tipped her head back and gave a husky laugh, taunting me. “Too bad you’re on the clock.”
Earlier, I’d made a strict rule there would be no hanky-panky between us while I was working. I was adamant about it, wanting to remain honorable and trustworthy to her dad. But to Isobel, I swear it became a challenge to tempt me at every turn.
“Dammit,” I muttered, stepping back. “You put on that ruby-red lipstick on purpose, didn’t you?”
She smiled, her eyes glinting with mischievousness.
Chuckling, because I really couldn’t mind her seduction attempts at all, I shook my head, murmuring, “Evil. You’re just plain evil.” Then I leaned closer and more quietly added, “I like it.”
Her eyebrow arched primly as she glanced down at the obvious tent in my pants. “Yes, I believe you do.”
I sent her a wolfish grin. “I won’t be on the clock forever, you know.”
Her smile and giddy laugh did my heart good. Touching her, kissing her, dreaming about going further was all good and well, but being able to make her laugh…that was the true triumph. She’d changed so much since the first day I’d been here, and I couldn’t help but swell with pride and accomplishment, knowing I’d been the one to nudge her from her shell. And I was the one to reap the benefits of it too, because once she was free from her insecurities, she was amazing.
Cheeks still flushed with pleasure, she cleared her throat and turned away from me. “What were we doing in here again?” she asked as she faced a silver rack sitting against the wall. “Oh right. Planting the baby rosebushes.”
“Our babies,” I immediately cooed when she picked up a seedpod where the tiny sprout was getting bigger. Instead of one inch tall as they had been when I’d first seen them, they were now three inches. “Aww.” I couldn’t help it, my heart melted. “They’re so cute. Can we name one Groot?”
Isobel sputtered a laugh and shook her head. “We can’t just name one.” Then she sent me an impish grin. “The others would get jealous.”
“So it’s settled.” I snapped my fingers. “We must name them all. This one can be Shaw, Jr., and ooh, that one looks like a girl. She’ll be Isobel, Jr.”
She snickered. “How the heck do they look like girl or boy plants?”
I shrugged, simply enjoying the playfulness of the moment. “No idea.” I pointed to another. “We’ll have to name one Margaret after my mom, and…” I glanced up. “What was your mom’s name?”
Gaze softening and eyes glittering with emotion, she swallowed before softly saying, “Annalise.”
“Annalise,” I murmured. “That’s pretty. I like that name.”
Her smile was watery and grateful. “It’s my middle name.”
I shifted a piece of hair out of her eyes, and she didn’t even flinch when I accidentally brushed past her scar. “Then we should name them all Annalise.”
She made an amused sound, but sadness lingered in her eyes, which I was sure was what prompted her to turn away. “So, where do you want to plant them?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Wherever you think best.” She kept gnawing on her lip as she studied the garden, unable to make a decision, so I pointed to the first bare patch of ground I saw. “What about there?”
Isobel stiffened, her entire bearing charged with tense distress. “Not there.”
When she immediately turned away, I crinkled my brow and turned to study the ground. “Why not there?”
She said nothing. I touched her back. “Isobel?”
She drew in a breath before answering. “That was where I died.”
My lungs seized. Then I shook my head. “Come again?”
It took her a while before she faced me. When she did, she looked even sadder than she had when she’d said her mother’s name. “It was my fault,” she admitted. “The fire.”
My lips parted. Lifting my hand to cup her scarred cheek, I murmured, “My God. I had no idea. What happened?”
She shifted her attention to the bare section of earth. “I had a boyfriend. Eric. He was…” I removed my hand from her. She sent me a dry glance. “Well, at seventeen, I thought he was everything. My first serious boyfriend. I thought he’d be my last. My happily ever after.” With a roll of her eyes, she muttered, “I thought I loved him.”
I nodded as if I understood, except I couldn’t stop my stomach from churning. She was talking in the past tense, and it had happened eight years earlier, but none of that mattered. I hated this Eric douche, and I wanted to smash his face in, for no other reason than Isobel had once fancied him above all others.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice low and my feelings restrained under tight control.
“Mom found my birth control pills,” she confessed. “We fought. She told me I was too young to be sexually active. I told her it was none of her business, and then she…she grounded me.”
Shaking her head, she glanced at me with a slight smile. “She’d never grounded me before. I’m not even sure if she knew what a real grounding entailed. Neither did I, really. But I didn’t care what it meant. I was the spoiled princess of the manor, Henry Nash’s only daughter. I??
?d always gotten whatever I wanted. So no way did I accept her punishment.”
I shook my head sadly, imagining a young, pampered, entitled Isobel. And as I did, I still felt bad for her. Not even a spoiled brat had deserved the fate she’d landed.
“It was so stupid,” Isobel went on, her eyes glazed and focused on the past. “I wanted to sneak out to see him, so I climbed from my window and jumped down to the ground. I forgot all about the candle in a jar I’d left burning on the desk right in front of that window. The curtain must’ve gotten swept into the jar when I’d opened the window. I’m not sure. I just remember looking back up there once I climbed down to make sure my mom hadn’t spotted me, and that’s when I saw the orange blaze behind the glass.
“I ran back inside, but oh God, do you know how fast a fire spreads? By the time I reached my room, it was entirely engulfed. I couldn’t just beat out the burning curtain, like I thought I could. I thought I could run and find a fire extinguisher, but my brain felt like it was working through molasses. All my thoughts went into slow motion. I panicked and ended up running to my mom for help, or to warn her, or I don’t know. I just knew there was a problem, so I got my mom.
“When we left her room, the fire had already reached the hallway and was eating up more rooms. We could barely see the bright orange through all the smoke, but my mom grabbed my arm and then…then this flaming beam came crashing down toward us.”
When she paused to gasp for breath as if the smoke was still stealing her oxygen, I took her hand. She didn’t seem to notice, even though her fingers squeezed around mine.
“I’m not sure if the rest is real memory or things I’ve heard that happened mixed with dreams I have about that night. But the dreams feel so real like an honest-to-God-memory; they haunt me more than fuzzy things I recall when I’m awake. In them, I’m trapped and burning alive. It hurts like nothing I can describe, so I scream, thinking I’m going to die. I try to find my mom, but I can’t see anything. Then I hear her calling my name above the crackling flames. She sounds so desperate and scared, but I don’t know where she is.”