Page 154 of Holding On To Good

True, Willow thought as Hayden walked away, Urban wouldn’t hurt her.

Because she wasn’t going to let him.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Once Willow decided the course she and Urban would take, she saw no reason to wait.

Funny what a little empowerment, a solid, well-thought-out plan of action and the possibility of another fabulous orgasm or two did to a woman’s previously held vow to take her time.

Then again, they really were topnotch orgasms, ones delivered by Urban, so, yes, please, give her more.

She’d gone to his house but a sullen Verity—elbow deep into a carton of mint-chocolate chip ice cream, a package of Oreos at her side—had mumbled that he’d taken off right after dinner to finish up some work at J&K’s shop.

Stepping into the shop, the pungent scents of sawdust and wood glue tickled her nose. A bathroom vanity sat clamped on one of the workstations, but the room was empty. Following the sounds of Sam Hunt’s “Take Your Time” she crossed to their open office door and found Urban sitting at his desk, staring out the window. His hair was messy, a sure sign he’d run his fingers through it numerous times, his eyebrows drawn together as if the oranges and golds of the setting sun pissed him off but good.

She knocked lightly on the doorframe and watched as he stiffened by slow degrees, some inner sense telling him who was there before he even had to look. Then, even more slowly, almost reluctantly, he turned to face her.

Guess it wasn’t the sunset he was pissed at.

Another reason she hadn’t wanted to delay this conversation another minute. Bolting last night hadn’t been one of her finer moments.

Leaving him hanging without a word not one of her kinder ones.

But she was ready to remedy that. To accept the consequences that came with going from friends to lovers. There would be changes and she vowed to roll with them.

Urban skimmed his gaze over her, so different than how he usually looked at her—quick, almost guilty glances when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Polite interest when they discussed their business. Warm humor when they watched a ballgame or hung out with his family.

But this look… she swallowed… this look was long and lingering. Blatant and sexual. Open and raw and so honest, it made her knees weak.

Made her realize she hadn’t taken one teeny, tiny thing into consideration. That for all her insistence that she knew exactly what she was doing, that despite her meticulous planning and vow not to let any messy, inconvenient emotions into the mix, she may have overestimated her ability to keep her heart out of this.

Or maybe she’d simply underestimated Urban. And the power he had over her.

But she wasn’t going to change her mind. She wanted this, had wanted him, for too long.

“We should have sex.”

It had sounded completely rational in her head. Hearing it out loud—very, very loud, it turned out as she’d practically shouted it—made it seem less like the brilliant idea it was and more like the disaster waiting to happen Lily had predicted.

Especially when Urban’s reaction to the aforementioned brilliant declaration was the slightest lift of his right eyebrow.

A little enthusiasm would’ve been appreciated.

Instead what she got was Urban leaning back in his chair, watchful and patient, his hands linked on his flat stomach. Waiting her out.

“What I mean,” she said, trying again, a little more irritated and a lot more flustered than five seconds ago, “is that I think we should explore the attraction between us. Everything else would stay the same—our friendship and business relationship. We’d just add sex to the mix. And then, in a few weeks or months or whenever things have run their course, we take it out of the mix and go back to how we’ve always been. It’s perfect timing, too, seeing as how we’re both currently single and not in a place in our lives where either one of us is looking for anything serious.”

No way was Urban thinking about forever. Not when he was so close to finally having his life back after taking care of his brothers and Verity. He deserved that freedom, a few years to explore life on his own terms. Time for him to discover who he was now that his responsibility to his family was over.

Oh, he’d settle down eventually. Urban was built to be a family man. After he had his fill of the wild, carefree ways of bachelordom, he’d find some lovely woman to be his wife. To have his babies. To share his home and the rest of his life with.

By that time, Willow would be married with a family of her own.

She’d better be. She wouldn’t be able to survive Urban’s happy ever after if she didn’t have something approximating one herself.

“Plus,” she went on, unable to stop rambling or gesturing wildly with her hands while he continued to watch her like she was performing a one-woman play that was so awful, he didn’t dare even blink lest he miss one fascinating, awkward, horrible moment of it, “when we do meet our forever people, we won’t have to wonder what if? It’s obvious this pull between us isn’t going to go away and honestly, we probably haven’t helped the situation by ignoring it for this long. Best to act on it now.”

Tucking her hands behind her back, she inhaled a deep breath, let it out and forced herself to hold his gaze.

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