Nonstop (Open Skies #3) - Becca Jameson Page 0,41

Who was she kidding?

“Don’t beat yourself up over the job. If you’re not feeling it, take a few more weeks off or give your notice.”

She glanced at her hands, wringing her fingers together. “I feel like a failure.”

He grabbed her hands and squeezed. “You’re not a failure. People quit their jobs every day.”

“Not because they can’t emotionally handle returning.” She groaned.

“Sure, they do. You’re not the first person to suffer a traumatic experience and not return to the place where it happened.”

He had a point. “I can’t just sit on your couch for weeks on end not working. I’m going to need to pay bills. The airline is going to stop paying me soon.”

Bracken nodded. “You’ve got a little wiggle room for now, and I’ll help you out if you get in a bind.”

She tipped her head back and stared at the ceiling. “You can’t do that. You hardly know me.”

He stiffened as his breath hitched. A moment later, he released her hands and shoved back, putting some space between them. He leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees. “Is that what you really think?” he finally asked in a soft voice she’d never heard before.

She stared at his profile, realizing he was mad. She’d never seen him angry. “I just mean that we’ve only known each other a few weeks, and…”

He pushed to standing and walked away, leaving her sitting alone on the couch in the now completely dark room. He walked through the kitchen, and she heard him open the sliding door. He’d gone outside.

Shit. Had she insulted him? Apparently.

She sat there for several more minutes, unsure of what to do or say. Confrontation wasn’t one of her strong suits, but she needed to apologize. Finally, she rose and followed in his path, finding him on the back patio, sitting on one of the Adirondack chairs in the dark, staring at the sky.

She lowered herself onto the other chair, sitting on it sideways, facing him. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed. “You don’t need to be sorry. Sorry doesn’t do me any good. I’m starting to realize that I’m more invested in our relationship than you are. It’s my fault. Not yours.”

She sucked in a breath. “That’s not true.” Did he really think that?

He glanced at her. “It’s not an accusation. You can’t help how you feel.”

“But, it’s not true,” she repeated.

“I’ve known all along that I’m too old for you. Hell, I’m a retired Delta. You have your entire life ahead of you.”

“Stop acting like you’re old. It’s ridiculous. I’ve never once thought of you that way. It’s all in your head.”

He shrugged. “Fine, if it’s not age, then you just aren’t that into me. If you were as interested in me as I am in you, you wouldn’t have suggested that we didn’t know each other well enough for me to help you out financially or even that we don’t know each other very well for any reason. I’ve never known anyone as well as I know you. I’ve never spent this much time with a single woman in my life. And I’m not talking about weeks, I’m talking about quality time. Our few weeks together are comparable to months in other relationships. We’ve spent countless hours together, discussed everything imaginable, and shared deep secrets. If that’s not knowing someone well, I don’t know what is.”

She took several short shallow breaths, gripping her knees with her fingers, her stress level rising. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way,” she murmured. “You know me better than anyone has ever known me too. I never dreamed I’d find myself in a relationship like this in my life.”

He sighed, his gaze lowering to his lap.

She needed to pull out all the stops here and find a brave bone. She needed to make him see that he was wrong. She was scared out of her mind, and a tear broke loose to run down her cheek. She swiped it away. “Bracken, I know I don’t always say the right things, or anything at all sometimes, and I’m horrible at confrontations, and I’m sorely lacking in people skills.”

He flinched.

She let out a sob and continued. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t want to fuck this up, and I’m scared out of my mind that I’m going to say or do the wrong thing and you won’t want me anymore. I’ve never once cared about our age difference. I’m worried about money and I don’t