Beg for It(66)

“What? It would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

Frowning, Corinne searched for something to put on over her nakedness. She found his discarded T-shirt and tugged it over her head. The hem hit her barely midthigh, but it was better than feeling bare.

“To move here, to Philadelphia with you? That makes no sense at all. My job is in Lancaster.”

Reese snorted softly. “I’m guessing I could change that for you.”

The heat that had been kindled inside her when she woke in his arms was rapidly being replaced by creeping ice. “Are you going to fire me?”

He frowned. “No, of course not.”

“My house is in Lancaster. My kids,” she said tightly, “live in Lancaster.”

“I didn’t mean—” He sighed and caught sight of her face. “Corinne, don’t look at me like that. Isn’t this better, here? Didn’t we have a great weekend?”

“Yes, we did.” She began looking for her clothes.

“So what’s the problem?”

She turned, a pair of panties and a bra in her hands. “I can’t move here with you. My life and my family and my job are in Lancaster. But let me guess, Reese, because it’s so obvious I should’ve seen it before. You have no interest in making a life there.”

His expression told her she was not far from the truth. But when she turned to head for the bathroom, he was up and out of the bed to follow her. She turned on the shower, not looking at him. Not wanting to turn this into an argument, but knowing it was heading there, because it felt so much like the last time she had to stare hard at herself in the mirror to be sure she hadn’t somehow traveled back in time.

“You didn’t think I was going to…what…live in my parents’ old house? C’mon. My life, my business, it’s here.”

“You told me yourself, you have houses all over. Why not one in the place where I live?” she asked and stepped into the shower’s hot spray. “You don’t need to live in the farmhouse. You could buy something. It’s not like you can’t afford to, right?”

“And if I don’t want to live in Lancaster?”

She didn’t bother washing her hair, merely rinsed herself with a thin sheen of soap and got out to grab a towel. “Did you ever have any intentions of living there?”

Again, he didn’t have to answer her with words. Disgusted and angry, Corinne wrapped the towel around herself and went into the bedroom to put her clothes on. Reese followed.

“No. I didn’t. I intended to see you again, Corinne. The offer to buy the company was just an excuse to do that. I told you that already. But then I did see you, and I wanted to keep seeing you. But—” he laughed without much humor, “—surely you can see that it’s impossible for me to actually live there.”

“Because you never wanted to live there, right? You wanted out. You wanted to get as far away from Lancaster as you could. Even though it meant leaving me.” Tears sparking her eyes at the memories of that last, final fight, she shoved her legs into skinny jeans and yanked a tunic blouse over her head. Her hair came free from the elastic, and she twisted it on top of her head again, ignoring the snarls. “So tell me something, Reese. Why did you bother? Why did you come back around, if you didn’t think you’d want to stay?”

She let him take her by the shoulders and look into her eyes. She didn’t want this to be a fight; she didn’t want old pains to rise up and come between them. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze head-on.

“I didn’t know, until I saw you, how much I wanted to be with you again, Corinne. I had no idea.”

“But now?” she asked quietly. “Now you know, right?”

“Now I know.” He kissed her, and she let him.

She let him pull her close too, her cheek pressed to the warmth of his bare chest. She closed her eyes. She breathed in the scent of him.

“I’ve only ever wanted to take care of you, Corinne. And now I can, beyond anything we ever talked about back then. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I hadn’t left, if I hadn’t used the money my parents left me to finish school and buy my first turnaround company—”

She paused, uncertain if she’d heard him correctly. “What do you mean, the money your parents left you? I thought there was nothing, that it was owed in back taxes and stuff, that’s what you said. A second mortgage.”

Reese looked uncomfortable. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair. It was his turn to look for something to put on, and as she watched him get into a pair of jeans with nothing beneath, she had time to piece it all together.

“Oh my God,” Corinne said. “You…lied. You lied to me.”

“Corinne…”

She held up a hand. He went silent. She shook her head, remembering long, hard hours of work and school and taking on all the responsibility for the two of them, especially those last few months before her first good job began and she and Reese had been at each other’s throats constantly.

“You used that money to leave me,” she said, her voice a rasping husk. “Is that what you did?”

“I asked you to go with me.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You asked me to leave behind everything I’d been working for, but you didn’t tell me that you had money that would help support us. You let me believe that you intended to head out to parts unknown with nothing more than a couple bucks in your pocket. I had a job, a good job, lined up for me. I’d been busting my ass for years to get my degree so I could have more than a job. I could have a career, something you didn’t seem to understand. I’d been supporting you—”