Page 93 of Bossy Hero

“More good news.”

And more silence.

If he cuts his steak any harder, he’ll crack through the plateandthe table.

“Tomer returned to work, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Any word on how his girlfriend is doing after they saved her? Poor thing hasn’t left my thoughts.”

“She’s still at the women’s shelter.”

Guess that’s all I’m going to get out of him.

There’s no possible way his steak is as tough as his forceful chewing leads me to believe.

“Alan, stop. Look at me, please.”

His hands freeze for three seconds before he gently sets his silverware down beside his plate. Leaning back in his chair, he swallows tightly and gradually fixes his eyes on mine.

It’s not an angry glare or a heated gaze of desire. There’s nothing playful or cocky in his expression, not that I expected there to be. All traces of his earlier smile have disappeared, leaving behind only sadness and longing.

He wants more than I can give him.

Ever since I let those three little words slip, he’s pushed even harder to get me to make things official. Which makes me dig my heels in further.

No matter how much I turn it over in my mind, I still haven’t figured out why I can’t give him this.

I want him. I love him. I don’t want to live without him.

So why can’t I take the next step?

Last week, we had the most lovely date on his boat. That night, I wanted to say yes so badly when he asked me to move in with him and officially go public.

I almost agreed.

Then a flash of Travis chasing me through our home not two weeks into our marriage streaked through my mind. The first time he raised a hand to me.

As soon as I was officially his, the previous red flags became blaring sirens.

So I said no when Alan asked.

My refusal is breaking his heart. And mine too.

“What, Maddie?”

My chin lowers, shielding my neck in that maddening way that’s somehow been hard-wired into my docile personality. Years of abuse will do that to a woman.

But I’m not that woman anymore.

Forcing my spine to straighten and my face to tilt upward, I earnestly tell him, “I’m sorry for what I said.”

“It’s fine.”

“Clearly, it’s not.”

After glancing at the ceiling, he licks his lips. “Do you want me to pretend I’m okay with the future you’ve painted for us?”

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