This was it; she had ruined it. She had met the perfect guy, and instead of recognizing it, she’d drilled it into him over and over again that she was embarrassed by his very existence. No wonder he hated her.
She didn’t know how long she stared blankly at the wall, listening to cars outside, the horns, the sounds of afternoon traffic, kids running through the halls, things that didn’t matter anymore.
A knock echoed through the room, startling her from her reverie. She wiped an arm across her eyes, not doing anything but making them rawer, and shuffled out of her bedroom toward the front door. She swung it open without bothering to check the peep hole. Why should she bother?
Her eyes grew wide when she saw Scott. He stood in front of her in the most expensive suit she’d ever seen, tailored to fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist, ivory cuff links peeking out past the end of the jacket sleeves.
“Oh, my gawd. You look amazing.” The compliment slipped out before she could stop it.
His crooked smile spread across his face, and he grasped her fingers between his. He kissed the back of her hand. “Thank you, Miss Carter. You look stunning too. You wear that far better than I ever did.”
Heat crept across her cheeks, and she ducked her head. She looked horrible. Face blotchy without makeup, hair in a ponytail. He didn’t mean it.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, resting his hand at the small of her back, and pulled her closer. He kissed her softly, lips undemanding, but hungry. He broke away, resting his forehead against hers. “You really, really do look incredible. The best thing I’ve ever seen. Do you have a minute?”
She hesitated. What was he up to?
Before she could think of a response, he’d grabbed her purse and keys off the table by the door and kicked her sandals in her direction. He slipped his hand around hers and tugged. “I have a surprise for you.”
A shock of want raced through her, and she bit it back. She wasn’t able to suppress the hope so easily. She allowed herself to be led down to the street toward a silver Porsche convertible. “This isn’t your car.”
He held the door open, waiting patiently. “I borrowed it from a friend. It’s a little classier than the love van. He was always better at that than me.”
The faint scent of cigarette smoke mingled with flowers from a hidden air freshener. Zach’s car. Too many questions assaulted her, and she didn’t know which to ask first.
He pulled into traffic, demeanor still friendly but aloof. His fingers brushed her leg through her sweats, lingering for a moment before he pulled away again.
He glanced at her, a hint of worry finally leaking into his deep eyes. “Say something?”
She should do that. But she didn’t even know where to start. “Why didn’t you tell me about your past?” That wasn’t where she wanted to start. She wanted to apologize. To tell him they could make it work. Instead, the accusation was out there with no way to take it back.
He cringed. “It’s not the kind of thing I like to dwell on. Even though I came from money, I wasn’t coddled as a child, and I earned everything I have now. So to me, it’s inconsequential.”
She couldn’t help the soft smile that slipped out. “That makes an amazing amount of sense. But you already knew everything I tried to tell you. Why did you let me put you through that?”
He took a deep breath and pulled the car into a nearby parking spot. His voice was soft, and he never looked at her. “You’ll hate me if I tell you.”
The quake in his voice filled her with concern and regret. She kept her tone reassuring. “I really doubt that.”
He continued, gaze locked straight ahead. “I hired you specifically because I needed to look like I was complying with my board, and I really didn’t want to. I thought I could distract you, screw around a little, and not actually have to follow anyone’s rules but my own.”
She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t even know if she could speak. There had been times she’d expected as much, but it still hurt to hear it.
He glanced at her, but didn’t turn his head. “And then I was so very wrong. You’re amazing at what you do, despite how stubborn I am, and I still can’t believe you put up with me