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“I know. I’m sorry.” He exhales a hard breath, pushes away the frustration threatening to overtake him. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t take the job.”
She rubs her face. “What? I don’t understand.”
“I turned down the transfer.”
“Nathaniel, you can’t do that. You can’t shirk your responsibilities for me.”
He arches a brow. “Shirk?”
“Yes, shirk.”
Hands pulled to her heart, she paces. “This is your career. And even though I don’t want you to die out there on the fucking high seas, I don’t want to fuck up anything else in your life.” Her voice is shaky. Full of fear. “I fucked too much up already, okay?”
“You didn’t fuck up anything.”
Guilt clouds her face. “I did.”
A sick feeling crawls through him. She still blames herself.
Tears fill her eyes. Fuck.
Ash crying scares the hell out of him. She’s tough, she’s mean, but right now, she’s hurting.
How does he tell her he’s been busy working out the details, the plans, and then chickening out, panicking that what he wants isn’t what she wants? He’s been berating himself for assuming that Ash can be tamed. That Ash would want him.
But fuck that. Because he wants her.
Suddenly, he finds himself crossing the room to take her in his arms. “Don’t you apologize for that. Never again. Do you understand me?” His voice thickens. “This is where we are now. You’re mine. I wouldn’t change that for anything or anyone.”
She scans his face, sadness in her eyes. “You gave up your job, Nathaniel.”
He grasps her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I used that job to run. I don’t want to run anymore.” His heart pangs. A muscle flexes in his jaw. “You have made me brave enough to live the life I want. And it’s with you.Youare what I want, Ash.”
She shakes her head, arching a brow. “I’m messy and I’m mean.”
“I love your mean. I know I will always get the right order at a restaurant because of you.”
She laughs, but it’s a sad sound.
“And I love your mess.”
Her eyes blaze. “We’re too different.”
“That’s bullshit,” he says simply.
She is absolutely perfect for him. Why can’t she see that? See that she is all he wants.
He takes her face in his hands, says roughly, “Ashabelle, I have thought of nothing and of no one since I first set foot on this vacation and laid eyes on you.”
The sadness slides from her face.
His throat is tight with emotion. But he pushes through it. “I love you. I am utterly and unfathomably in love with you, Ashabelle Keller.”
At his words, she closes her eyes. Takes a shallow breath, the action rocking her body.
He means it. She’s his. She will always be a sharp object. And he will never stop loving her.
Her mouth works. Those bold red lips part. But nothing comes out.
