I rub a hand over my jaw. “I’m sorry too.”
She falls silent, appearing lost in her thoughts, and I let her have them. I sit and watch her, the play of emotions dancing across her face, the way her head tilts, and way the cords of her neck flex and loosen.
When I first sat down in that office in front of her, I’d thought her pretty, thought she could be sexy if she let herself be. It was a shallow assessment. And a wrong one. She’s beautiful, complex, and a complete mystery to me. Every time I see her, interact with her, she grows more compelling, more addictive.
Finally, she asks, “How did you find me?”
“Wyatt.”
She jerks her head to look at me. “He told you?”
“Yeah, he did. Does that surprise you?”
“Yes. I thought he’d have my best interests in mind.”
I shrug. “Maybe he does.”
She scoffs, chucking the blade of grass. It flutters in the wind before falling to the ground. “You think my best interest is a secretive, remote drifter whose only asset is a beat-up truck?”
I chuckle, wanting to alleviate some of the tension. “Well, when you put it like that…”
She shakes her head. “You’re impossible.”
Her expression is exasperated, but her shoulders have dropped from hovering around her ears.
I point to her mother’s grave. “How’d she die?”
Cat swallows hard. “Cancer.”
“I’m sorry.” I look at the years of her birth and death. “She was young.”
“Yeah.” Her eyes turn bright, watery as she studies the stone. “Maybe that’s just how it is for the women in my family.”
“What? To die young?” My heart beats fast, instinct warning me to tread lightly so I can get to the truth of her.
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
I take a risk and put my palm on her back, tracing a path down her spine to rest on her hip. Her body tenses, but she doesn’t push me away, and I take that as progress. “It matters to me.”
She meets my gaze. “Why’s that?”
“I don’t know, but it does.”
“I don’t think that’s enough for me.”
I take a deep breath and try again. “There’s something about you that reaches inside me and squeezes. Something stronger than sex. I don’t like it, but I can’t seem to shake it.”
She lowers her eyes, staring down. “I didn’t think I affected you.”
I have no idea why she’d believe that. Can’t she see what a struggle it is to stay away from her? But regardless of what I think she should believe, I’m stuck with what she does.
“You do.” I run my hand up her back, curl it around her neck, and stroke my thumb over her lips. “If you didn’t, I wouldn’t be here, having the hard conversation.”
Her lashes flicker. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know how to answer that.”
She raises her hand and brushes my forearm, but I can’t tell if it’s to push me away or keep me close. “You’re confusing me.”