Page 39 of Dreaming of You

"I can have love without marriage."

"Can you?" she countered. "Real love that lasts forever? I think marriage makes a difference. My mother said she was so in love with my father that she didn't feel she needed a piece of paper. But as soon as something happened that my father didn't like, like my birth, he took off."

"He probably would have done the same even if he was married to your mother."

"Or maybe he would have tried a little harder for a little longer."

His gaze softened. "You can't blame yourself for breaking them up. You were a baby."

"I don't blame myself. I blame him. Actually, I blame both of them for not figuring out what they really wanted before they conceived me."

"People in love can be impulsive and reckless."

"I know. But it's not an excuse."

"It sounds to me like you're going to want a guarantee before you go down the aisle."

"Not a guarantee, just someone willing to commit to me in front of my family and friends. And, yes, I know I could still end up in divorce. But I feel like I have a better chance of beating those odds if I make sure I've found the right person, someone who wants what I want."

"And that hasn't happened yet."

"Not yet, but when it's right, it will be right."

"What if you fall in love with someone who doesn't want to get married?"

"I don't think I could," she murmured, although as she studied Barrett's handsome face in the candlelight, she had a feeling she was lying to herself. "I want everything: the engagement, the wedding, the marriage, the happily ever after. And I think I deserve it."

He stared back at her, his gaze unreadable. "If that's what you want, it's what you should have."

She didn’t know how their conversation had gotten so deep so fast. Barrett had just built a pretty solid wall between them, reminding her that he did not want what she wanted. She needed to tamp down the attraction she was feeling toward him. He might be sexy as hell, with lips she really wanted to kiss, but she couldn't go down that road.

"We should go," she said. "It's getting crowded, and I'm sure Sonny would like the table."

"Right," he said, glancing around the room. "I didn't realize all the tables had filled up."

She grabbed her bag and Barrett led her out of the restaurant.

As they hit the street, she pulled her coat more tightly around her shoulders. Fog had descended on San Francisco, and it was a cold, wintry night. As they walked down the dark alley, Barrett took her hand in his, and a searing warmth ran through her. She wanted to hang on to that heat, but she had a feeling if she did, she could get burned.

* * *

Barrett was feeling way too many emotions as he slid behind the wheel. Letting go of Kate's hand had been far more difficult than it should have been. They'd just had a very clear-cut conversation that showed how different they thought about love and marriage. She was not someone he needed to mess around with and vice versa.

He just wished he wasn't so attracted to her, that he didn't like her passion and fire so much, that he didn't respect the fact that she knew what she wanted and she wasn't about to settle for anything less, that he didn't feel like he wanted to rise to the challenge she'd just laid down—that she couldn't fall for someone who didn't want to get married.

He knew she could feel the heat between them. She was just determined to fight it.

He should do the same. That would be the smart thing to do.

"My car is at the office," Kate said suddenly, breaking into his reverie. "You can just take me back there."

"Of course." Maybe it was better he wouldn't be taking her home, wouldn't be tempted to see if he could get himself invited inside.

Kate's phone buzzed, and she reached for it. "I'm sorry. I have to take this. It's my grandfather."

"No problem."

"Grandpa?" she said. "Is everything okay? What? Is she all right?"

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