Irresistible (Cloverleigh Farms #1)(69)

“Hey,” she said, offering a smile.

“Hey.”

“Didn’t you like the cake?” She gestured at my dessert plate, which was still full. I hadn’t taken a bite.

“I’m not that hungry.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “I’ve never heard you say that before. Are you feeling okay?”

“Actually, not really.” I loosened the knot in my tie. “I’m a little warm.”

“Well, I was coming over to see if you wanted to dance, but maybe you’d like to get some air instead?”

“Uh, yeah. Air would be good.”

She set her champagne down on the table. “Let me grab my coat from the back.”

“You can wear mine.” I shrugged it from my shoulders and she turned around to slip her arms into the too-long sleeves.

“Thanks.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Mmm. It’s nice and warm.” She sniffed the collar. “And it smells good.”

The queasy feeling in my gut intensified as we walked to the back of the barn and snuck out through the doors leading to the covered patio. In the summertime, wedding guests would have been out here as well, but since it was February, we had it to ourselves.

Frannie breathed in and exhaled, creating a little white cloud in the icy dark. “Whew, it was warm in there.”

“Yeah.” Sticking my hands in my pockets, I took a few deep breaths too, hoping they’d calm my fraying nerves.

“You’re not off the hook, though. I still want to dance with you.” She elbowed me gently.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

She turned to face me. “Why not?”

“Because …” I forced myself to say words I didn’t feel in my heart. “I think we should slow down. Cool off.”

She shook her head slightly. “What? Where is this coming from?”

“I’ve just been thinking we’re moving a little too fast.”

“Since when?”

I shrugged. “Last week.”

“I don’t understand. On Wednesday in your office, things were fine. I’ve hardly seen you since.”

“That’s part of the problem, Frannie. We can’t even see each other. It’s too hard with all the sneaking around. And it’s not fair to you.”

Again, she shook her head, and tears glistened in her eyes. “I’ve told you a hundred times, I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do. I can’t keep doing it. It’s making me feel like shit. I can’t be what you deserve and what my kids need. I just can’t. I feel like I’m being torn in two.”

“But Mack,” she said, a tear dripping down her cheek. “I’m in love with you. I can’t just walk away.”

I felt it like a sledgehammer to the chest. “Don’t say that. It’ll only make things worse.”

“But it’s true,” she wept. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before in my entire life.”

“You’re so young, Frannie. You’ll meet someone else who can be what you want.”

“I want you, you big jerk,” she said, going to wipe her eyes but struggling to get her hand free from the long arms of my coat. Finally she gave up and the tears fell freely while I stood there helpless and angry. The thought of her with someone else made me want to put my fist through the barn’s glass door.

“You think you want me, but you don’t,” I told her. “Where do you see this going, Frannie? Where does it end? Because it has to end somewhere.”

“Why?” she sobbed.

“Because you want things I can’t give you.”

“Like what?”

“You want a husband. You want children.” I shook my head. “I’m never getting married again, and I’ve already had my children.”

“I’ve never even brought that up,” she said, finally fishing a hand from my sleeve and dragging her wrist below her nose.

“But it’s true, isn’t it? You’re envious of Ryan and Stella. You see how easy it could be. You want that promise of a future together, and you should have everything you want. I just can’t be part of it, and when you realize that down the road, you’ll leave.”

“You mean you won’t.”

“What?”

“You won’t be part of it.” She took a step closer to me and looked me right in the eye. “You’re choosing to end this now because you’d rather be alone than take a chance on a future with me. You’re afraid.”

I bristled. “I’m realistic. I know what I am and what I’m not capable of. And the girls are already too attached to you. What happens to them when this falls apart? They’ll be devastated. They’ll hate me.”

“Don’t blame this on the girls,” she said, sliding my coat from her arms and shoving it at me. “This is all you.”

“Frannie, come on. I didn’t want it to be like this.”

But she spun on her heel, yanked open the door, and disappeared inside the barn.

Hanging my head, I stood there for a moment with my coat in my hands and told myself I’d done the right thing—for my kids, for Frannie, for myself.

But I’d never felt worse.