Sleeping with the Boss (Anderson Brothers, #1)(45)

Claire finished off her wine and set the glass next to her empty plate. God, she felt good. Too good. So good, she was willing to say what had been on her mind since before their shower, something her newfound hope had put there. “Come with me.”

Will smiled across the small table. Wrapped only in a bath towel, and with the sunset reflecting off the skin of his face and broad chest, he looked like a bronze statue. “Where? To the beach?” He arched an eyebrow. “Back to the bedroom?”

There it was. Her chance to play down her blurted out deepest desire, or go all in. All in. “Egypt.”

His smile stayed in place, but everything about him tensed. Not just tensed. It was as if he had recoiled from her one, simple word. Shit. She’d rushed this. It was too soon. Hell, maybe it would never have been the right time.

The high she had felt only moments ago plummeted out of the sky like Icarus, wings blazing. In her happiness, she’d flown too close to the sun.

She would not cry in front of him. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said, wrapping the towel tighter around her and rising from the wicker chair. “I’ll be right back.”

When she got to the bathroom, she slumped to the floor. Surely this wasn’t a deal killer. She’d surprised him. Hell, she’d surprised herself. She did want him to go, but a trip like that was a commitment. Maybe he wasn’t ready to go there yet. After Beth had screwed him over so bad, maybe he would never be ready again.

…

Will paced the tile floor of the porch, feeling borderline panicky, like he did right before a mission.

Why Egypt? There were very few places on earth he refused to go. Egypt was one of them. Never, no matter how compelling the reason, would he ever set foot in a f*cking desert again unless it was to defend his country.

Or your heart?

Sand and heat and misery filled his memories. For years, with only a short reprieve in the middle, he’d had sand in his eyes and up his nose. Grit had coated everything he ate—every surface he touched.

Not even for Claire would he go to a desert. Will had very few absolutes in his life, and this was one. And that was the real problem here. He couldn’t go with her, so he wanted her to stay—to give them a chance. He wanted more.

He slumped back down in his chair and buried his face in his hands.

This was a woman who had sacrificed her teens and early twenties to take care of a sick and dying family member. She’d kept her hope alive by dreaming of a trip to a place that had fired her imagination as a child. She’d endured a hell worse than his in many regards. Only where he’d made it through the horrors by imagining a life with Beth at the end of the nightmare, she’d had Egypt as the carrot that kept her going.

And he’d be damned if he got in the way of someone’s dream when he’d had so many of his own shot down. He couldn’t go with her, and she deserved to know why. He had to let her follow that dream, but until that time, he’d make the most of it. Of her. Starting right now.

“Claire, may I come in?” He rapped gently on the bathroom door. Man, he’d handled this wrong. She’d extended her trust and he’d f*cking sat there stunned silent and crushed it…again. He tried the knob and it wasn’t locked. He cracked the door open an inch or so. “Hey, I really want to talk to you.”

“Come on in.” She sounded good. Not like she was melting down.

He pushed the door open and his heart stuttered. She was sitting on the floor, still in her bath towel, legs kicked out in front of her crossed at the ankle. Her face was a little blotchy, but other than that, there was no evidence of tears. She was tough. A fighter.

Towel still around his waist, he sat across from her and leaned back against the cabinet. “I’m sorry.”

She held her hands up. “No.”

“Stop. You wouldn’t let me apologize last time at your apartment. This time, you’re going to hear me out.”

Her mouth snapped shut.

Oh shit. He had her attention, but what the hell could he say that didn’t f*ck things up worse? He hadn’t planned this out; he’d acted on impulse…like she had. That’s it. She’d spoken from her heart and he needed to do the same. “I need to explain my reaction out there.”

When she took a breath and opened her mouth, he held a finger up and she fell silent.

“I know you think it’s because I don’t want to go with you or because it’s too rushed, or I don’t like you enough, or whatever lame excuse you have for me cooked up in your head, but you’re wrong.”

He reached out and put his hand on her slender ankle next to his thigh. “There’s only one reason I won’t go…can’t go.” He rubbed his hand up to her knee and back down to her ankle before crossing his arms over his chest. “Egypt is a f*cking desert. I can’t do deserts, Claire.”

Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t say anything.

“I want to be with you. It’s why I brought you here. You and I both have acknowledged this is special, am I right?”

She nodded.

“But no matter how special this is, going with you is out of the question. I swore if I got out of Afghanistan in one piece, I’d never set foot in a desert again. Well, I got out. I was lucky, but I can’t go back. Even with you.”

“Oh, God, Will. I hadn’t even thought about that.” She may not have been crying before, but whether from relief or compassion, a tear breached the rim of her eye and slid down her face. Will kissed it away and pulled her into his arms.