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Eek. True.
“Talking to strangers is easy, but talking to people I want to befriend is impossible. Also, sometimes I don’t clean my dishes right away, and sometimes I eat Oreos for breakfast, and I don’t know how to contour my cheekbones very well, and if I have more than one beer, I’m tipsy because I’m a lightweight, and also, I kiss emotionally-unavailable boys under waterfalls.”
His face had gone blank as she had blabbed on. “Anything else?”
“No. Other than that, I’m perfect,” she joke-lied. “Your turn.”
“Okay. I remain emotionally unavailable because I’m accustomed to traveling so much. My animal is at the age where he is supposed to be running a family group but so far, I have no craving and I’m pretty sure that’s because the job I took from Damon when I was eighteen has morphed into my entire life and has trained my animal to only care about fighting. I don’t talk to my parents enough, as someone smart recently pointed out, and I have trust issues from a childhood relationship I should’ve gotten over years ago. I drink my coffee black because there are rarely creamers in the hotels I live out of, and last night I didn’t sleep at all because I felt like I should be…”
“Should be what?”
He cleared his throat. “Forget it.”
“Nope, we are being honest. Finish it.”
“I didn’t sleep because I felt like I was supposed to be protecting a woman who does not need my protection.”
“Wait, what? Me?”
He nodded, pursing his lips into a thin line. “Yep, you.”
She stared blankly ahead, trying to sort that all out. “You think I don’t need protection?”
“You are a badass, Jenna.”
She crossed her arms, trying to figure out how to feel about that. “I think that is a compliment, but I always wanted someone to protect me. Or at least someone who wanted to.”
“Gunner is protective of you,” he pointed out, but his voice was honest. He wasn’t taking a jab.
“Yeah, but that’s like an older brother being protective. It’s not like having a man be protective over you because he wants you, you know?”
“You haven’t dated much?”
“I’ve dated some. It just never got deep, you know?” she said, frowning at the open gate of Kong’s lumberyard.
“Why not?”
“I don’t think I know how to be deep with anyone.” It was a big admission, but felt right. She felt as if she was learning something big about herself right now.
He pulled to a stop in front of the front-office building, and turned to her. His eyes were open and honest, matching his words as he said, “You feel deep to me.”
No man had ever had a reason to say the L-word to her, but that word combination felt just as big.
You feel deep to me.
Her eyes felt tingly and her chest felt fluttery, and she was so confused by herself that she dropped her gaze.
He just waited, quiet, allowing her time and space to think. It wasn’t an awkward silence. There was no pressure. He was just allowing her to exist with her feelings until she could speak again.
“No one has ever said anything like that to me before.”
The corner of his lips curved up in a sexy, charming, hot-boy smile. “Good.”
“I’m going to go,” she murmured. “And probably mess up every order and every phone call, and probably trip over my own feet a dozen times today while I mull this over. If I have a cast when you come to pick me up, mind your business.”
His crooked little smile had turned into a full-on grin. “I’ll sign it.”
“How big?” she asked.
