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Finally, he returns. “Let me change, and I’ll be right with you.”
“Okay,” I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders.
He saunters back in from the bathroom wearing sexy gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Claudia must have gotten to his wardrobe after all. He looks ten years younger, walking around in casual gear. I love his suits, but I love this look, too.
The man looks good in anything. And probably best in nothing. The thought makes me blush.
He takes a seat next to me. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he apologizes. “Sorry about that.”
“No need to be sorry,” I say.
I want to snuggle in closer, but I’ve got to get this secret off my chest. The words tumble from me; I’m no longer able to stand this feeling in my belly. “But there’s something I need to apologize for and something that’s been bothering me, and I want to talk to you about it.”
“Tell me,” he says. “Now.”
I cover my face with my hands. I start with, “I shouldn’t have snooped.”
“My mind instantly goes to classified Bachman information you may have come across but you have no access to those files.” He pulls my hands away from my face, his steady gaze meeting mine. “What did you find?”
If only it were top-secret information, that would be easier to talk about than this.
“Um… it was in your dresser drawer.” I nervously bite my bottom lip, finally saying, “I found an engagement ring.”
“That.”
I watch as the color drains from his face. He looks down, shaking his head slowly. Such a visceral reaction… now I have to know.
“Yes,” I say softly. “That.”
He takes a moment, breathing in deeply as he prepares to share the story of why he has what looks to be a fifty-thousand-dollar engagement ring nestled in the top drawer of his dresser.
“It’s not a current thing if that’s what you’re asking,” he says.
My heart lightens with joy. “I mean, I would like to know that you are single. Not being one to cheat, I tend to assume everyone is the same way as me, but you,” I draw a quick breath and continue to ramble, “and I never really had ‘that’ talk, and so if you are seeing someone and that was them on the phone, then yes, this would be the time to disclose that information.”
“I’m like you,” he says. His eyes lock on mine, honest and steady. “I don’t mess around.” He heaves a sigh. “I’ve been single for a long time.”
I wait, wanting to know more about the ring.
“Do you mind,” he asks, “if we wait to discuss the ring? If you were wondering if I was single or not, I would have been happy to answer that question. Next time, if anything is bothering you, anything at all, just ask.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling ashamed for having not.
“Promise?” he asks.
“I promise.”
“Good.” He slides back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. He brings his gaze back up to meet mine. “But the snooping—we need to have a little chat about that, don’t we?”
I gulp. “Do we?”
“We do. I don’t like secrets between us.”
“Neither do I,” I agree.
“Being a part of the Bachman family, there may be times I have to wait to tell you things until they’re cleared by security. Not to keep secrets but to keep you safe. Does that make sense?”
“Of course,” I say.
