Truly, Madly, Whiskey(28)
She clutched the phone tighter. It was a strange feeling, wanting to call Bear and simply hear his voice. Wanting to rely on him. She’d always felt safe with him, but last night he’d taken that even further. He’d become her safe haven, and that made her feel good and a little scared. She hadn’t had anyone in her life that she could truly rely on since her father died.
She scrolled through her messages, skipping the selfie Jed had sent her last night with the caption, The new and improved Jed! She hoped that was true, but she wasn’t counting chickens just yet. She read the thoughtful text from Bear for the tenth time, and the warm and fuzzy feeling she’d gotten the first nine times returned. She’d responded this morning with, I’m okay. Thank you. It was a lame response, but she had no idea what was appropriate. Should she have said the bigger truth? You make me feel happy and safe, and I want to be in your arms again. Can you please come over? She wouldn’t even know how to be the person who texted something like that. But she wanted to. God, she wanted to so badly.
She’d hated telling him she was too exhausted to invite him in last night, but she had been emotionally exhausted, and she was a little afraid to open another door. Getting on the back of his motorcycle had been a baby step, though it had felt enormous. Confessing her secret was like handing him her heart on a platter, and he’d handled it with tender, loving gloves. If she’d allowed him to come in and comfort her, she was afraid of where that might have led—by her doing, not his. And she didn’t want to take that step until he’d had time to process what she’d been through.
But she wanted Bear.
And she wanted to hear his voice.
She sank down to the chair on the balcony, staring at her phone, as if it held her courage. Why is this so hard? It’s a text. Just ask him to come over.
She told herself she wasn’t relying on him; she only wanted to see him.
Exhaling loudly, she knew damn well why it was so hard. Because the people she should have been able to count on, who should have been there for her, had let her down. How could she rely on anyone other than herself?
She set her phone beside her and covered her face, groaning. She needed to think about telling Gemma, too. Gemma’s wealthy parents had showered her with everything other than love and attention. Her dreams had revolved around having children of her own and giving them all the love she’d never experienced, but because of medical issues, she would never be able to bear her own children. When she’d met Truman, he’d had little more than the shirt on his back, two babies he’d rescued from a crack house, and a drug-addicted brother Truman had gone to prison to protect. She knew now what she hadn’t known when they’d met. If anyone could handle her past, it was Gemma. The guilt of having lied to her weighed heavily on Crystal.
Baby steps.
She sat there for a long time, trying to clear her head. They only had two parties scheduled at the boutique today, and they didn’t start until eleven. Plenty of time to get out of my head before going to work. A quick trip to the ice cream store was in order. Or maybe the bakery. Sugar, definitely sugar. She walked inside, grabbed her bag, and threw open her apartment door, nearly plowing into Bear.
“Hi,” he said with a sexy smile.
Startled, she opened her mouth, but no words came. He was holding a box with two large milk shake cups from Luscious Licks ice cream shop in one hand and the cutest calico kitten she’d ever seen in the other. But it wasn’t the sexiness of that smile, or even the adorable kitten in his hands, that had stolen her voice. It was that he had appeared moments after she’d been wishing for him. Like a miracle. It took her a few seconds to push past the void he was quickly filling up inside her and find her voice.
“You’re here? I was just thinking about you. And…” She bit her lower lip to stop her overexcited self from rambling. How had he known she needed him? Her eyes dropped to the precious kitten in his hands. Was there anything hotter than a tiny kitten tucked against a strong, tatted-up arm? Bear’s strong tatted-up arm? She was a little jealous of that cute kitten, allowing Bear to cuddle him so easily.
“Can I…? Is he yours? Can I hold him?”
“She’s yours, sugar. Her name is Harley.” He leaned forward, handing her the snuggly little kitten.
She gasped. “Mine? You got me a kitten?” She rubbed her chin over her soft fur. “Bear…?”
“I hated the idea of you being alone last night.”
Chip, chip, chip. Down came more of her walls.
“That’s…” She felt like she was going to cry. What the heck was going on? She wasn’t a crier. She was a bold, in-your-face woman. But as she stood before the man who had drawn her tears last night and then held her through them, checked on her in the middle of the night, and now was standing right there with her, that bold woman refused to appear. She turned away so he wouldn’t see her damp eyes, and blinked them dry.
“That’s so nice, and this little girl is so freaking cute. Thank you.” She looked down at the kitten and lowered her voice. “What do you think, cutie pie? Should we invite the sexy beast in?” Her stomach went six ways of crazy as she slid her gaze to Bear. This felt more like a jumbo leap than a baby step.
He held up the box with the cups. “I brought you a mango, pistachio, blueberry, lemon milk shake, but don’t worry, no fries for dipping.”