Page 120 of My Heart Still Beats
“Again, I’m so sorry about that.”
She shrugs. “I know, and it wasn’t my thing, but Skye and the others loved them. Anyway, thanks for planning everything else. It all came together so well.”
“Tessa, I was glad to do it. You were obviously struggling, and I wanted to help.”
Her brown eyes sparkle. “Do you save every damsel in distress you come across?”
I smile. “Can’t say that I do.”
“Then why did you help me?”
I pause a moment. Then, “Because it’s my brother’s wedding. I wanted these parties to be perfect.”
Her lips turn down just a bit.
Is she disappointed in my response?
Because the truth of the matter is while my response is accurate, I also wanted to helpher. She knows this, but it won’t hurt me to say it again.
“I also did it for you,” I continue. “I’ve been drawn to you since that first time we met to have a drink and plan the parties. The more I get to know you, the more I want you. I dream about doing more than kissing those lips of yours, as you know. I wanted to kiss you that first night I met you, Tessa. That first night when you were scared of your own shadow.”
“Why didn’t you?”
I smile. “Normally, when I feel like kissing a woman, I do it. I know the signals. Of course, I misread the signal once. Got my face slapped.”
She drops her jaw.
“But you wouldn’t have slapped my face.”
“Probably not.”
“You also weren’t ready for a kiss that night.”
“Absolutely not,” she echoes. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to wait until my deathbed—” Her eyes go wide as a look of horror crosses her face. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said that. My father just died, and I’m not… I don’t want you to think…”
I reach across the table and pat her hand. She doesn’t pull away.
“I don’t think anything of the sort, Tessa.”
She frowns. “It’s odd, really. I’m devastated about my father’s loss, of course. I miss him horribly, and I wish I had been able to see him one last time. But I’m actually feeling better than I have in a month. What does that say about me? What the hell kind of person am I?”
I shake my head. “I’m not a therapist, but I’d say you’re pretty normal. Your father’s death got your mind off of the trauma you’ve experienced. In a way, it’s helping you heal.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
I shrug. “Like I said, I’m no therapist. It’s just a theory.”
We’re silent for a few minutes, until—
“So…is this a date?” she asks blatantly.
I laugh lightly. “I think so.”
“Good.” She smiles.
And it’s about as genuine a smile as I’ve ever seen on her face.
“So you want to date me?” I ask.
