Purchased Husband (Trophy Husbands #4) - Noelle Adams Page 0,60

“I don’t know. It seems to be going pretty well.”

“You seem happy. It’s really nice to see.” Steve’s sober brown eyes are scrutinizing my face. “But aren’t you worried?”

“About what?”

“About what’s going to happen in a few weeks when your contract runs out. Isn’t it strange that you haven’t talked about it?”

It is strange. I know it’s strange, and I’ve just been afraid to admit it to myself. “I don’t know. I really think there’s something there. Something real. I’m just wondering if he’s waiting until we’re no longer in a business relationship to say something about it.”

Steve’s face twists. “You really think what you two have going on right now is a business relationship?”

“No. No.” My cheeks are burning painfully. “But he’s getting paid still. I’m paying for it. That makes it... weird. I think that part needs to be over before anything else will happen.”

“Okay. And what if it doesn’t?”

“What if what doesn’t?”

“What if your time runs out and Damian takes all the money he’s earned from these six months and just walks out of your life?”

I stare blindly, the idea of it hurting so much I almost can’t process it.

“Mel?”

“I don’t think that will happen. I really don’t. If nothing else, we’ll still be...”

“Be what? Friends? Is that what you want?”

“No, of course it’s not what I want. I...” I gulp over the words. “I want more than that. But I don’t think I’m wrong about this. I’ve never been great with relationships, but my problem has always been that I’m too careful. I hold back too much. I haven’t been holding back in this for at least a month now, and I really don’t think I’d be stupid enough to let down my guard if there wasn’t... wasn’t a good reason.” The words ring true to me.

Please God, they have to be true.

“Yeah. That would be my thought too. You’ve never been too trusting or optimistic about relationships. But I can’t figure out why the guy hasn’t said anything yet. I mean, if he’s in this for real, why not say so?”

Something tight and heavy is shuddering inside me now as I ask myself the same question. After all, what could be holding Damian back? There’s been time after time when he’s shown that he cares about me. He’s had plenty of opportunities to share feelings or ask questions about the future. All the good advice I’ve ever gotten about guys has said that if they haven’t taken steps to seal the deal, it’s because they’re not sure they want that deal to be sealed.

He didn’t tell me about his bad meeting with Dr. Mead. He only shared what was going on in his life when I pressed him on it.

Maybe he’s not in this all the way. Maybe he’s not in the same place I am.

“Shit, I’m really sorry, Mel.” Steve’s eyes are scanning my face urgently. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just worried. Have you thought about... about bringing it up yourself?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I always figured at the end of the contract, if Damian still hasn’t said anything, that’s when I...” I clear my throat. “It’s only a few more weeks.”

“Yeah.” He reaches out and puts an arm around me, pulling me into a friendly half hug. “I’m going to be mad as hell at the guy if he did all this to get you to trust him and lower your guard and let him in and then he breaks your poor heart.”

I give a choppy laugh, not very far from tears. “I don’t think that will happen.”

“It better not.”

We stay like that for a few minutes. I’m still shaky, but I’m also comforted. I’m about to pull away when a noise across the room diverts me.

It’s not even five o’clock yet. Damian is never home this early. Maybe part of me heard some rustling noises that indicated his arrival, but the timing and context was so wrong for that to happen that the sounds didn’t process.

So I didn’t hear Damian come into the condo. I had no idea he was here until Steve says, “Hey” and withdraws his arm from around me.

I’ve been leaning my cheek against his shirt, and I straighten up with a jerk when my eyes land on Damian.

He’s standing perfectly still, wearing jeans and a long-sleeved gray crewneck. His saddlebag is still hooked on his shoulder. His eyes are moving between my face and Steve’s.

“Damian,” I say with a smile, working through the surprise quickly.

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