Sweet Little Thing - Page 28/36

How did I do this? How did I love her? How did I do it and not hurt her? Could I? She was so damn sweet. I was scared I would mess up. Fuck that. What if she saw me for who I was and left me? How would I survive?

“Shit,” I muttered.

“What?”

I sat my glass down and laid my head back closing my eyes. Not looking at her was easier. I couldn’t face what I was about to say while I admitted it. Because that’s why I’d stayed up. To tell her before I lost her.

“Do you know why I ran out this morning?” I asked her. Hell, she may have this all figured out by now anyway.

“No,” was her uneasy response. This was making her nervous. I didn’t want to do that.

“I left because I was fucking terrified,” I admitted.

She didn’t say anything. I heard her shuffle her feet. I continued. “You scare me. I’ve never been scared before. Not about women. But you, Beulah Edwards, scare the fuck out of me.”

“Oh,” her voice was soft and she sounded confused. I didn’t have to see her face to know that. She still had no idea.

“I don’t fall in love. Not my thing. I had parents who hated each other. I figured they must have been in love once. And saw what love had done to them. Hell, I could be just like my dad and fall in love with someone as fucking cruel and cold as my mother. I stayed clear of having feelings for a girl and it was easy. It was easy . . . until you. And you didn’t even try. You were just you and I have fallen so hard that I can’t believe it myself. You’re different,” I said opening my eyes and turning my head to look directly at her. “You are the different, the special that breaks a man. Makes him want more. Makes him want a life he thought he’d never have. Until you, I never wanted to love someone, Beulah. But you . . . I want to love you. I think I’ve waited my whole life to love you.”

Her eyes were wide, her mouth slightly open in surprise or shock. She was frozen in place. Not moving. It looked as if she were barely breathing. If she ran from me or she didn’t want this, I’d suffer. I had gotten my stupid ass drunk and thrown myself out there to be trampled.

“Me?” she finally said just above a whisper.

There it was again. The thing that made her different. If I had told this to any other girl I’d ever dated she would have immediately taken what I’d said and ran. Gotten all she could out of me. But Beulah just stood there. Unable to move. Wondering if I meant to say all this to her.

“Yes. You. I don’t think it could ever be anyone else.”

She blinked and touched her temple, rubbing her forehead with her hand, then she shook her head. “Are you drunk?”

I laughed then. She made me laugh a lot. Something I needed. I wanted to be close to her for many reasons, but her joy about life was part of it. She made me happy. I’d been pretending so damn long, I had forgotten what real happiness felt like. She knew though. She found it even when life sucked.

“Yes, I’m drunk. But everything I just said is why I’m drunk. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wanting to be near you. I gave you a job in my office so you’d be close to me during the day. Even when I acted like a dick it was because I was attracted to you and I didn’t want to be. Then I spent more time with you, got to know you, and it was more than your beautiful face. It was your beautiful soul.” I wondered if I’d be coming up with such fucking great prose if I was sober. I doubted it. I’d be so damn nervous I wouldn’t say half this shit. I meant it. Every word. The words flowed easily with the alcohol involved.

She still wasn’t moving. So I got up and walked over to stand in front of her. Close enough that I could feel her warmth, but not touch her. She tilted her head back to look up at me. “I-I love you too. But . . . we can’t do that. Love each other. When you’re sober you will realize that. This,” she looked around her. “We live two different lives in two different worlds. That won’t mix.”

I had tried to tell myself that. Stone had tried to fucking drill it into my head. But if life only gives you a Beulah once . . . how do you walk away? I didn’t want to be my dad. I didn’t want his unhappy life. I wanted a life with sunshine in it. A life with Beulah. “Let me show you I can make this work. Please. I can’t just let you slip through my fingers. I’m lucky enough to have found you. I won’t find another girl like you. And in this life, I need you. I’ll do everything I can to make you need me.”

She blinked again, and sighed. Her eyes were damp. “I don’t believe this is happening. I’m afraid to believe it. When you wake up tomorrow you’re going to regret you said all this. It’ll be awkward and . . . I need this job. Both jobs.”

I reached out and put my hand on her waist, gently tugging her to me. “I won’t change my mind. And I sure as hell won’t regret this. Let me hold you tonight. When you wake up in my arms you’ll know it’s going to be okay. We found each other for a reason. It was fate. It’s supposed to be. We’re supposed to be.”

She was stiff, but with my words she slowly eased and relaxed. Her body molded against mine. “I think fate sometimes can be cruel,” she whispered against my chest.

“I won’t let fate hurt you. I swear.”

Beulah

I HAD BEEN IN THIS room many times to clean it. Now I stood in Jasper’s massive bathroom with a towel around me after taking a bath and looked at myself in the mirror. Was I making a mistake? He was drunk. I could smell the whiskey on his breath. But he’d also been very serious. He hadn’t tried anything. He had said words, such beautiful words. Words that a drunk mind doesn’t just make up, right?

“You okay in there?” his voice came from his bedroom. He wasn’t passed out. He was waiting on me.

“Yes.”

He didn’t say more. I slipped on my pink pajamas and looked at myself one last time in the mirror. My ratty pajamas weren’t exactly something a woman wore to attract a man. But we were just sleeping . . . in his bed . . . together. I should have said no. I should have gone to my room.

But I wanted this. Jasper. Us.

This was a gamble. Maybe the biggest of my life. I couldn’t let Heidi be affected though. If he changed his mind would I lose my jobs? Could I let my heart guide me when I had a sister to take care of?

I opened the door and was going to tell him my concerns. My worries. Because he needed to understand how this was more than me taking a chance. I had much more at stake than my heart. I was barely through the door, and he was there. In front of me. His body was warm and his hands cupped my face. Those eyes of his that had been breathtaking the first time I saw him study me. They were open. Clear. I could see the raw emotion in them. This was a chance for him too. One that obviously scared him.

I started to ask why when his mouth covered mine and he pressed me back against the door I’d just walked out of. I’d never been kissed quite like this. It was heady and delicious. The taste of the whiskey he’d drunk was dark and wicked. I closed my eyes, and wrapped my arms around his neck. I forgot everything I’d been worried about, and soaked in the smell of him. I reveled at the way his body made mine tingle with excitement.

Our tongues danced and our breath mingled in the dark room lit only by the moonlight streaming through the windows. I was hidden here. We were alone, and my body was humming with need. A need that demanded more. I pressed closer to him. My fingers laced through his hair and he made a low sound that vibrated his chest.