Bad Engagement (Billionaire's Club #10) - Elise Faber Page 0,41

away those who tried. But he was good at caring, and he could be damned stubborn when it came down to it.

He touched her cheek. “You expected me to say no to the message,” he said, and she nodded. “And more than that, I started caring for you, instead of the other way around.”

She nodded. “I didn’t even have a chance to build my walls because you were just there and inside and you keep doing all these nice things for me—” A sigh, her chin dropping to her chest. “And I don’t know how to take.” She threw her hands up. “I just don’t know how and I keep thinking I need to make it up, to care for you instead and . . . I’m so fucking scared because it’s been a week and I like it too damned much.”

He crossed to her, pulled her against him.

Maybe this was another moment with a should have.

He should have lied. He should have molded the truth, softened the blow in order to make it so she wasn’t scared.

But Jaime hadn’t lied to Kate, hadn’t minimized or reduced anything between them, and he damn sure wasn’t about to start now.

“Good,” he said, using one hand to cup her cheek, to force her to look at him.

“Good?”

“Yup.” He kissed her again, short and fast and hard. “Because I don’t care if you’re scared, Kate McLeod. I like you and I like taking care of you and I’m not going to stop.” He ran his thumb across her bottom lip. “You’re stuck with me.”

Her breath shuddered out.

“And a good relationship isn’t about keeping distance or measuring all the nice things you do for your partner on a scale. It’s not a tit for tat, I do something, you do something.” He brought his other hand up, cupped her other cheek so that he held her face in his palms and her stare couldn’t dart away. “Sometimes the scale tips one way. Sometimes the other. But it’s okay if it’s not perfectly balanced, or—” He kissed her forehead. “Or if that care is heavier in your direction for a bit. At some point in the future, it’ll bounce the other way.”

“But what if I can’t let it?”

He smiled. “Good thing I’m stubborn and pushy.”

A shaky laugh.

He nuzzled her throat. “You’re stuck with me, Red,” he said again, wanting to make it clear, even while knowing it would take her time to believe him.

“Jaime,” she began.

“No, Red.” Fingers on her cheeks, brushing away the tears that were falling in earnest. “You’re stuck with me until you order me to go—” He paused, considered that. “You know what? Fuck it. Try to order me to leave. Try to run. Try to push me away, but you’ll still be stuck with me.” A shrug. “Because you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, and now you inched open that door. I’m not stepping back. I’m not backing off. I’m pressing forward.” Another kiss, gentler this time, his next words equally so. “I’m going to make my way through the rest of that armor, baby, and once I get to your heart, I’m going to keep it safe because it will be here.” He took her hand, pressed it to his chest. “Because it’s going to be so tightly bound to mine that I’ll always be there to protect it.”

He kissed her tears from her cheeks, slipped one arm around her waist to hold her tight.

“You know I’ll want to protect your heart, too?” she asked, determination on her face.

Love swelled in him, because that was the Kate he was growing to know. Generous and sweet and so fucking incredible that she was absolutely worth fighting for.

“It’s already yours to protect, Red.”

And then he let his lips drop to hers and kissed her.

He kissed her until the sun rose fully.

He kissed her until her stomach rumbled.

Then he bought her breakfast.

And then . . . well, then he kissed her some more.

Sixteen

Kate

It was Tuesday night.

She was still feeling vulnerable, and Jaime was still being wonderful.

He’d bought her breakfast on Sunday after she’d turned into a sobbing fool then had spent the day in her garden with her, digging holes, stealing kisses, and then insisted on paying for the dinner they’d had delivered.

He hadn’t argued when she’d said she was making him cookies, though—her way of evening the scales. Yes, she knew, or at least was coming to understand that, logically those scales didn’t need to be balanced, but she