That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(62)
“I’m sorry for everything. I really am. I just don’t do relationships, and I’ve never been good at them.” Not my best apology, but I’ve certainly had worse.
“You don’t need to be an expert dater, Reid. You just need to be a decent human being. Ignoring me, pushing me aside, not trusting me with what you’re going through . . . that’s not the kind of man I want to be with.”
“I know, and fuck . . . you deserve better. So much better, Eve.”
“I do. I want someone who’s going to stand next to me, hold my hand, be a partner in life.” She shakes her head, disappointment bleeding into the gesture. “What do you even want from this?” She motions between the two of us. “What do you want from me?”
“I . . .” I push my hand through my hair. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“This is all new to me, Eve.”
“Don’t.” She waves her hand, clearing the space between us. “Don’t keep using that excuse. That you don’t do relationships. Jumping into this, you knew what we were getting into; you knew what I wanted from you. We talked about it. Well, now it’s time to get real. What do you want from me?”
Her eyes bore into me, waiting for an answer as her arms cross over her chest. The empty space fills with tension. If I want this woman in my life—which I know I do—I’m going to need to man up.
“I want you, Eve.” My tongue swipes across my dry lips. “I want you.”
She looks out toward the harbor. On bated breath, I wait for her to say something, anything, to ease the nerves rolling in my stomach.
Finally, she turns back to me, a firm expression etched on her face. “And I want you, Reid.” She can’t be serious—after everything I’ve said, after everything I’ve done? My shoulders slump as relief washes over me. She jabs a finger at my chest. “But I want you to be better with me. Do you want that? Do you want this?”
More than I think she’ll ever know.
I nod and pull her even closer, pressing my hand against her cheek. “I want you, Eve, and I don’t want to lose what we have, but it’s about to get a whole lot more complicated. Eric is going to be living with you. We’re all going to be working together, and he doesn’t even know about us.”
“We can make it work. I just need you to want to work at it, to trust me and tell me things. No more hiding.” She presses her hand to my heart. “Let me be a part of your life and everything about it. Please don’t keep me in the dark.”
She still wants me. How is that even possible? Eve Roberts is a goddamn saint; any other woman at this point would have flipped me the bird and walked away. But there is patience in Eve, patience for me and for the relationship that’s blooming between us.
I wrap my arms around her and press a kiss to the top of her head as relief floods my body. “I don’t know why you like me—or how I could snag you—but what I do know is I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re lucky I’m crazy desperate.” She laughs. “There aren’t many choices in Port Snow.”
A low laugh rumbles through my chest.
“Are you saying I’m the best choice out of the worst pickings?”
“Pretty much.” She stands on her toes and presses a kiss to my chin. “Just promise you’ll talk to me, Reid. Promise me.”
“I will,” I say, grateful for this incredibly understanding woman. “Just continue to be patient with me because I’m bound to keep fucking up.”
“Just remember to get me walnut fudge every time you screw up.”
“Done.” I press another kiss to her lips. “Will you come over tonight? We can talk about how we’re going to make this work.”
“Will you be naked?”
“With my legs spread.” I wink, making her laugh.
“Fine, but you’re required to make me dinner. You’re a chef, after all, and you need to dust off those knives.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
She shrugs and pulls away. “Naked, legs spread, and a homemade meal. I think you can handle it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
REID
“I can’t believe you’re really naked.”
“Not naked.” I tug on the strings of my apron. “I have this fella on.” And thank God, because my spaghetti sauce has already splattered, and I can’t imagine what that would have felt like on my sensitive man skin.
“Your entire ass is on display.”
“Would you rather I wear it like a cape so you can see the frontal goods while you eat?”
She laughs and sips from the wine I poured her the minute she got here. “I don’t know which is worse.”
“You mean which is better, babe. Which is better.” I wink and finish plating the dishes with a small garnish, adding some green to the overall appearance. I wipe the sides, making sure the presentation is on point, and then I bring dinner over to my girl.
Not going to lie, I stumbled a bit around the kitchen while making dinner. I made some mistakes, simple errors, but since it’s been three years since I’ve actually cooked something, I was kind to myself.