The Wrong Gentleman(66)

“I’m not sure about that,” he said, holding my gaze. “If I’m honest with myself, and you—because that’s what you deserve and what I’m really trying to be—I don’t think I would have been ready to say goodbye at the end of the summer.” He blew out a breath like he’d just made it to the top of a mountain, and I almost smiled. Something told me that talking about his feelings wasn’t easy for Landon.

But he was trying.

And I had to appreciate that. He was trying for me.

“Our lives are so different, Landon. I’m just a waitress, at a diner, in the middle of the United States. You’re in London doing God knows what.”

“I’m going to be consulting for MI6. They want my skills and expertise, but I wouldn’t be working for them full time. I’ve gotten used to being my own master.”

He’d shared more about himself in the last twenty minutes than he had all summer, and I wanted to encourage him. “Are you allowed to tell me that?”

“I can’t give you details, but yes, I can tell you that much.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure what to say.

“I live in a penthouse in the center of London,” he continued. “My business has always done well, and I lived comfortably, but I didn’t make big money until I sold it.”

I swallowed. He was really, really trying. And it clearly took so much effort. He’d tracked me down and flown out here. He hadn’t just called. My defenses began to look like a clumsy fort constructed by a seven-year-old to keep out an imaginary monster rather than the arguments of a grown woman.

“Tell me something else that’s true,” I said.

“I’ve wanted to join the SAS since I was fourteen. I meant what I said about Christmas and Mariah Carey. I’d have preferred to do my own ironing on the boat. And . . . I miss you.”

I pressed my lips together and held back from launching myself into his arms. “Yeah, August’s ironing wasn’t great.” I paused, trying to decide what to say next. “And I miss you, too.”

He moved toward me, and I held out my hand. “But that doesn’t mean that—”

“It means that you miss me,” he said. “It’s a start and I’ll take it.”

I closed my eyes in a long blink. “A start? Maybe it’s better as an end.”

“I can’t believe that. Won’t.”

I pushed my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know, Landon. I just can’t see how—”

“Can I take you to dinner? You can ask me as many questions as you like, and I have nothing to hide.”

“And then what? You go back to London and we become pen pals? You have a job waiting for you. A flat. A life.”

He glanced over at my books. “My flat has a bigger table than this place.”

“What?”

“You’re studying. Avery told me she didn’t think you’d be going back to yachting. And you don’t belong in some shitty motel. It doesn’t suit you, and I think you know that.”

“Avery told you I want to go to college?”

“No. But you have a dozen books on your dressing table.”

He always saw more than I showed him. “You were right the first time.”

“So come study in London. See if you like it—it has some of the best universities in the world.”

I couldn’t hold back my smile. “You’re crazy. I can’t just come to London. We barely know each other. And I have a job and—” I was clutching at straws. There weren’t many good reasons not to leave Ohio, but Landon wasn’t a reason to say yes.

“I think we both know we’re not ready for whatever we have to be over,” he said.

There wasn’t an hour in my waking day that I didn’t think about him. “It’s a lovely idea but . . .”

“Don’t say ‘but’. There doesn’t need to be a ‘but’.”

There were a thousand reasons to say no to him. He’d hurt me—cut me to the bone when I’d opened myself up to him—but every fiber in my body wanted to say yes. “I need to think about it.”

His face remained blank. Was that his training? There was so much I didn’t know about the man in front of me, and everything was tumbling about between my head and my heart. I didn’t know which way was up anymore.

“I need some time,” I said.

“But you’ll think about it? About us? About coming to London?”

“I’m still bruised, Landon. I get that you were trying to keep me safe. But my hard wiring tells me not to trust men who lie, whatever their reasons. You know I’ve spent my life trying to avoid repeating my mother’s mistake. It’s instinct now just to rely on myself.”

“Skylar.”

“I mean it, Landon. This is a lot to think about.” It wasn’t as if he was proposing or offering any kind of guarantee, which wasn’t a bad thing. It was honest, at least.

“Okay. But I’m not going anywhere. Not far, at least. I’m checked in at the hotel next door. Can I take you to dinner?”

“It’s been a long day and, really, I need to think.”

“Tomorrow, then. Can we have breakfast?”