Page 47 of Break My Fall

He couldn’t fix it. Would clarifying help? Maybe not. But would it make things worse? Before he’d made up his mind, his mouth took the decision out of his hands. “Just because I don’t do something doesn’t mean that I don’t want to. Sometimes I do want to. Very much. But I can’t.”

“Can’t?” Meredith moved toward him until they were only a foot apart. “Or won’t?”

He shook his head. “Both.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Care to share?”

Had she moved closer?

“No.”

“Maybe you should.” She gave him a small smile. “I could tell you if your reasons are valid.”

She was definitely closer.

He took a step away, and the hurt that flashed across her face short-circuited his brain. He didn’t remember deciding to reach for her. He had no idea when his feet moved. Or when he rested his hand under her chin. But he did know that once she was in his arms, there was no amount of logic or reason that could stop him from leaning his face toward hers.

Had she closed the final inches or had he? His lips moved across hers, and he confirmed things he had long suspected. Her lipsweresoft. Her kissdidscramble his brain. And her bodywasa perfect fit against his.

He also discovered things he hadn’t known, like the way Meredith tasted of chocolate and whipped cream and the way her skin warmed under his touch. And when she let out a soft sigh against his lips, he learned that it was possible for a woman to make him forget his own name.

Eventually, he remembered who he was, where he was, and who he was with, and he also remembered why he shouldn’t be doing what he was doing. He broke the kiss and took a step back.

Meredith’s eyes were closed, and when they opened, the way she looked at him would haunt him for the rest of his life. There was so much ... no. He wouldn’t even let himself think that word. But the joy and excitement, the smile on her lips, the flush on her cheeks, all of it faded when he increased the distance between them.

“Gray?” The confusion and hurt cut through the last haze of desire and idiocy.

“I’m sorry, Meredith.”

“Was it that bad? I’ll admit I’m out of practice, but I thought—”

“No. It—”

“Cassie’s place is clear.” Mo’s voice crashed through the moment. “My house is too. We need to decide what to do with the scarf.”

Meredith turned her back to them. “You decide. Burn it. Bury it. Throw it in the wash and drown it. I don’t care. I’m going to stay here and work for a while.”

THIRTEEN

Meredith kept her back to Gray and Mo as they discussed the best way to handle the bug. She was so focused on not paying them any attention that she didn’t realize they’d come to a decision until she heard Mo say, “Let’s take care of it.”

She turned enough to make eye contact with her brother. “Have fun with that.” Her voice sounded mostly normal. Or maybe it didn’t. She didn’t care. It didn’t matter.

She wanted them to leave her alone.

And when they finally did, she waited a full minute before she slid down the wall until her rear hit the floor. She pressed her head to her knees and waited for the tears.

But they didn’t come.

They should be streaming down her face. She wasn’t a weeping willow, but she wasn’t a cactus either. She cried when tears were called for.

And tonight called for tears. She needed the tears.

But they wouldn’t come.

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