Page 67 of Forbidden Vows

Finally, his gaze drifts up to meet mine. “You deserve a Nathan.”

But I want you.

Wow, where did that come from? Four simple enough words, but they threaten to complicate everything.

I-thump. Want-thump. You-thump.

You can’t always get what you want, Cleo.

The last time I did what I wanted in a relationship, I asked my cheating boyfriend to ‘work it out’ with me, and to my humiliation, he declined. Wait—that’s not entirely accurate. The most recent time I thought with my heart (among other body parts) instead of my head I slept with my stepbrother. The very man who sits beside me now, making said heart race and mentioned body parts melt.

I swallow down all the feels, going with my common sense. I force the words from my mouth. “And you deserve a wonderful, beautiful woman who can mingle with other Beauties without feeling terror. Someone who can travel with you and relax and…I don’t know,” I try to make light of the situation we’ve found ourselves in, joking, “Maybe you want a girl who can reach the second shelf of her kitchen cabinets.”

He looks at me. “I always liked it when we lived together and you’d ask me to get stuff off the high shelf for you.”

“You did?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It made me feel good. You’re like the most self-sufficient woman in the world, and you needed help from someone like me.” He takes a long sip from his drink.

Someone like him? “You work hard, constantly consider others, and prioritize family. You genuinely are a good man.”

“Thanks.” He sounds genuinely touched. “That means a lot coming from you.” He pauses a moment, then says, “Hey. There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you about the other night. After Liam and Emila’s house, you said something…”

Oh goodness. I don’t remember. How big of a fool did I make of myself?

“I had a lot of wine that night. I’m kind of a lightweight.” I rack my brain trying to think of what I may have said to him in my intoxicated state. “Get it over with. What foolish thing did I say?”

“You said you had to drink that night,” he says. “So you could pretend?—”

His words are cut off by a loud alarm blaring from the phone in my pocket.

Saved by the bell! Always alert beneath his calm demeanor, Blaze sits straight up, asking, “What was that?”

“Sorry. I haven’t yet figured out the volume control on this fancy Bach-Tech.” I slip the phone from the helpful pocket of my dress. “I set a reminder alarm.”

He settles back against the cushions. “For what?”

“Class assignment requests are due.” It feels a world away, but school will start in the fall.

“For work?” he asks.

“Yes. You can request which grade you’re in for the upcoming school year. I’m certified K-6, and I’m hoping to stay with my class and move up to first grade, and with the time change, I didn’t want to miss it. The principalsaysit’s not first come, first serve, but I don’t think getting mine in right away hurts.”

“You’re attached to those little buggers, huh?”

“Yeah. They kinda have me wrapped around their fingers. I hope my principal lets me stay with them.” I give him a pensive glance. “How are things on your end? Will I be safe to go back?”

“Fingers crossed, but I’m working things out.”

“All those secret phone calls you’ve been having?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think we’ll be good. As long as you’re okay with 24/7 surveillance when I leave the city to come back here.”

“I know.” We’ve had long discussions about this. I don’t want him worrying about me. “I understand. And thank you for keeping me safe.”

“It’s my number one job.” Then his voice goes tight. “So, you’re looking forward to going back?”

“This vacation has been incredible, but work calls.” I inhale deeply, trying to log the scent of the air in my memory, “I’m gonna miss fresh air when I’m back in the city.”

---