“Can’t we call a truce? Can’t you see what’s right in front of you?” Bridget pleaded.
Oh, he saw it. His friend might be playing the happy groom, but the man had been railroaded into marriage by the oldest trick in the book. And Bridget didn’t even know, which gave more credence to his conclusion.
Tom was trapped.
“I don’t want a truce, Bridget.”
She huffed an exasperated breath. “There’s nothing left to do. This wedding is happening.”
He tightened his hold on her. “You don’t think I know that. You don’t even know the half of it.”
“Then tell me why you’re so against Tom marrying my sister.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It’s complicated.”
“Then tell me what’s happening between us,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
“Do you really want to know?”
She lifted her chin, challenging him. “Yes.”
He leaned in. “You make me insane, Bridget Dasher. You’re in my damn head. And when I look into your eyes, I’m lost, and I’m found. And I can’t escape this idea that, with you, I could be different. I could be whole.”
“Then why won’t you agree to a truce?” she asked.
He stared into her eyes as he grew more and more bewitched by the second.
“Because I don’t want a truce. I want you.”
“You do?” she whispered.
Her goodness shined in her eyes, and in it, he saw the possibility of a better version of himself. A version that didn’t leave him alone and toiling in a pit of emptiness.
Maybe he could have her, and she could fill the emptiness in his heart?
He released a ragged breath. “You know, I do. From the moment I saw you, I wanted you all for myself.”
A hopeful glint sparked in her eyes. “I want you, too. But I need you to promise me something.”
At the mention of a promise, all he could think of was the wreckage of his childhood, littered with unkept promises.
I promise I’ll come to your baseball game.
I promise we’ll spend time together next week.
“Promise me that I don’t have to worry about you doing anything crazy with this wedding,” she said, cutting through his cluttered mind.
He stared at her—at this woman whose word meant everything. Brimming with integrity, she was the kind of person who’d move heaven and earth to help a stranger.
He’d observed her doing just that.
“How do you do it?” he rasped.
She was almost too good to be true.
Bridget cocked her head to the side. “Do what?”
“Always put others ahead of yourself?”
“I told you. If I make a promise, I keep it. Now, I need you to make one,” she replied gently.
He’d never promised anything to anyone. He’d never wanted to risk following in his parents’ footsteps. And he’d never actually had the inclination to give his word.
And as far as promises go, it wasn’t like many people had asked him to pledge his honor.
Tom never asked for promises. They were buds. Best friends. They hung out. They spent the holidays together. There was, at least, an unsaid code between them—but never a promise.
Was Soren Christopher Traeger Rudolph even capable of such an oath?
But with his world tumbling out of control and his emotions calling the shots, he knew what had to be done.
“I do.”
She grinned up at him, and God help him, if having her meant he had to give his word, he was all in. Or perhaps, he’d been mesmerized. Whatever it was, her presence quieted the gnawing voices in his head. It dared him to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was worthy of someone like her.
Her sweet expression morphed into a naughty twist of her lips. “Now that we’ve got that business out of the way, I’ve got a proposal for you.”
He stared at her lips. “What’s that?”
“I propose you kiss me and don’t stop,” she answered through her lashes.
“There’s the vixen,” he replied, peeling off her coat as lust edged out the emotional turmoil that had rocked his body since he’d laid eyes on her.
She would be his salvation. He would take her kindness and her beautiful light and use it to ward off the darkness that consumed his soul. Cupping her face in his hands, their lips crashed together as a spark ignited between them. She hummed as he deepened the kiss, the sound going straight to his hard length.
He wanted to remember everything about this night—every kiss, every touch, every sweet moan.
Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the bed, then gently set her down. He removed her boots, then worked his way up her body.