Page 31 of Dear John

“Kavanaugh, I couldn’t handle it if you stopped your life for me. I saw it in your eyes. You want to do this.”

“If you would just?—”

“No, I’m not just going to. You’ll tell me some bullshit about needing to stay and protect me. Well, I’m telling you right now, if you don’t take this job because of me, we’re over.”

Geez, the woman wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise. “Okay.”

“I swear to God, if you—” A cute little line appeared between her eyes as she frowned at me. “What?”

“I said okay.”

“Okay, you’re taking the job?”

“No, okay, I’m not not taking the job because of you.”

“You’re not not?”

“Exactly. Isla, as much as I want to keep you safe, my decision isn’t just about you. There are other women and children around here to think about. And the town…so many people would get dragged into this mess. So, no. I’m not taking the job, and yes, there is a tiny hint of you in that decision, but it’s more than that.”

“So, you’re not taking the job.”

“Not even a little.”

Her lips pulled to the side as she thought it over. Damn, this woman was going to bust my balls for the next five years over this decision. Why couldn’t she just let it go? Probably for the same reasons she didn’t want to forgive me just yet.

And speaking of that…

I got down on my knees in front of her, grinning when I saw the sheer panic filling her eyes. “Isla?—”

“What…what are you doing?”

“I know I fucked up and I broke your trust?—”

She jolted to her feet, backing up into the swing. “Kavanaugh, this is so not a good idea.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I think I do,” she said, the panic growing to unfathomable degrees.

It was fucking cute, and since she was all about jumping to conclusions tonight, I’d let her dig herself a deeper hole just for the hell of it.

“Isla, since I’ve known you?—”

“But you don’t really know me. Not anymore.”

“I know you well enough, and I know that I’m fucking pissed at myself for not trusting you with what was going on.”

She turned and strode to the end of the porch, but there was no escape for her. Only a railing blocked her path. She spun, her eyes flared in desperation. “I can’t marry you!”

My lips tilted up as I slowly got to my feet. “I wasn’t asking you to marry me.”

Her mouth dropped open, then she snapped it shut, cocking her head at me. “And why the hell not? I’m a good catch.”

“Right, but there’s sort of a problem I have.”

She crossed her arms over her chest in anger. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

“You’re not a bigamist, and while I would really love to kill your husband and end things sooner rather than later, I get the feeling you wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

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