I turned around to reach the can opener and found Gideon standing at the other end of the island, staring at me.
I froze.
A muscle in his jaw twitched before he unclenched it.
"Would you like a beer?" he asked gruffly.
I nodded.
I could've used a shot, too.
Maybe a few.
"Want a glass?" "No."
He looked at Ireland.
"You thirsty? There's soda, water, milk."
"How about one of those beers?" she shot back, flashing a winsome smile.
"Try again," he said wryly.
I watched Ireland, noting how she sparkled when Gideon focused on her.
I couldn't believe he didn't see how she loved him.
Maybe right now it was based on superficial things, but it was there and it would grow with a little encouragement.
I hoped he'd work on that.When Gideon handed me the chilled beer, his fingers brushed mine.
He held on for a minute, looking into my eyes.
I knew he was thinking about the other night.
It seemed like a dream now, as if his visit never really happened.
I could almost believe that I'd made it up in a desperate delusion, so hungry for his touch and his love that I couldn't go another minute without giving my mind relief from the madness of wanting and craving.
If it weren't for the lingering soreness deep inside me, I wouldn't know what was real and what was nothing but false hope.
I pulled the beer out of his grasp and turned away.
I didn't want to say we were done and over, but it was certain now that we needed a break from each other.
Gideon needed to figure out what he was doing, what he was looking for, and whether I had any meaningful place in his life.
Because this roller-coaster ride we were on was going to break me, and I couldn't let that happen.
I wouldn't.
"Can I help with anything?" he asked.
I answered without looking at him, because doing so was too painful.
"Can you see if we can get Cary out here? He's got a wheelchair."
"All right."