The Way You Look Tonight (The Sullivans #9)(62)

"Brooke—"

She scowled at the man who had made her cry out with pleasure mere minutes before...and who now was just making her cry. "And there’s the math test where I copied an answer from the girl sitting next to me when I was ten because I ran out of time and panicked about not bringing home an A. You should make sure you have your staff add that to the reports for the next guy who decides he has to do a background check before he can decide whether he’s sure enough to let himself love me."

"I was an idiot for not trusting you," he said in a voice made raw with emotion, and something that sounded like fear. "I was a fool for thinking you might have skeletons in your closet like everyone else."

"But I do have them, Rafe. I’m not perfect. Nobody is. And if you’d asked me about my past instead of running this stupid report, I would have told you that my parents told me over and over my whole life to be careful, to watch out, to make sure I didn’t get hurt. I would have told you that my grandparents taught me to believe in myself, and in others, no matter what, but that no matter how hard I try I hadn’t been able to completely shake away the fear my parents instilled in me. Not until you. I would have told you that I knew I would be safe being wild with you because you would never let anything happen to me." She didn’t bother to wipe her tears away this time, not when she knew more would just fall. "And I would have told you that finding out you’d bought the house next door felt like my birthday and Christmas all wrapped up into one, because you hadn’t just come back to the lake. You’d come back to me. I saw that you were darker, more cynical, but I thought I could help erase your pain with fun and laughter. And love. But now—" Her breath shook, along with her limbs. "Now I don’t know what to think."

* * *

"You did help." Didn’t she see? "You showed me I could love when I didn’t think it was possible." Rafe wanted to reach for her so badly that his fingers were actually cramping from holding them in check. But she hadn’t offered him another touch, and he sure as hell hadn’t earned it yet. "I can change. I swear I can, for you." Feeling as if he was grasping at straws, he told her, "I just told Ben that we’re not going to take infidelity cases anymore. I don’t want to see anymore relationships fall apart, and I don’t want any of my employees to have to deal with seeing it, either."

"I’m glad to hear that," Brooke said softly, but she was too pale and looked terribly fragile. "But I don’t know if that changes the fact that I always trust, even when I shouldn’t. And you always doubt, even when you shouldn’t. I wanted to believe we could make this work, that we could love each other through the rough patches, but—"

"We can. We will. Let me start by loving you right, Brooke. Let me prove to you I can fix everything I broke. Let me start replacing doubt with trust."

"Maybe my parents are right," she said softly. "Maybe I don’t know how to make good decisions. Because even though I know I should be kicking you out after what you’ve done, I just can’t."

She could have told him to get the hell out of her house, then rammed the deadbolt home to keep him out. But even though he’d hurt her, badly, he could still see the love in her beautiful eyes. She’d never been able to hide that from him.

"Thank God," he said, relief sweeping through him as he reached for her.

For one perfect heartbeat she let him hold her...but then she slid out of his arms and moved far enough away that he couldn’t reach out and touch her again.

"That day on the beach when we first kissed, you said we needed twenty-four hours to make sure we thought things through. While I’m in Seattle for the next twenty-four hours, we both need to do some more thinking. At least," she added with an exhausted sigh, "I do."

"You’re not coming home tonight?"

Her eyes flashed with surprise at the way he’d called this home. Though he’d lived in Seattle his whole adult life, he’d never felt as though he was truly home until he’d shared one with her.

"I can’t think straight when I’m with you, Rafe." The breath she took shook through her. "I need to be sure. Completely sure."

God, he hated hearing his own words coming back at him. Hated even more knowing what a fool he’d been to ever think them in the first place. Desperation clawed at him to get her back...and to make her stay.

He knew if he kissed her the way he had that first afternoon out on the beach when both of them were dripping wet, he could keep her from leaving, could get her to change her mind about taking twenty-four hours to think about whether they could make things work.

But Rafe had already made too many mistakes with Brooke. Using their attraction in an attempt to temporarily bind her to him would only destroy whatever was left of the love she still had for him.

So when she said, "I need to get ready to leave now," then turned to walk back into her bedroom and closed the door behind her with a soft click, even though it nearly destroyed him, he let her go.

Twenty-four hours.

He had twenty-four hours to figure out how to prove to her that he could change...and that he could love her the way she deserved to be loved.

* * *

Brooke stood in her bedroom and stared at her unmade bed where Rafe had made such sweet love to her hours ago...and where she’d told him she loved him. She hadn’t had a single doubt. Hadn’t had a single fear. She’d simply given him her heart with the perfect certainty that he’d never harm it.