“It’s not stupid.” I touched her arm, and she turned to stare up at me with dark eyes. “It hurts when what you valued in your life moves on without you.”
She nodded, biting her lower lip. “I feel like a jerk, pouting over the loss of a role when you have it so much worse. It seems petulant.”
I huffed out a ghost of a laugh. “You think that’s what’s going on in my mind? No, Emma. Not even a little bit.”
Emma shook her head, but I didn’t think she’d truly heard me. Dark thoughts had pulled her too deep. “The show was known for its wild directions, killing off people without remorse. But I can’t help thinking, why me? Was it really for the good of the story, or did I do something wrong? Did I bore the audience?”
“People watched because of you,” I said with a fierceness I hoped she heard. “Jesus, Em. You were its star. You shine. Nothing will change that.”
Her gaze met mine, still a bit hazy, but she was listening. A small smile played on her lips. “It’s pride. Ego, more like. Mine took a hit, and I wasn’t prepared for the blow.”
“We never are, bee.”
Her smile turned warmer. “No, I guess we’re not. But they keep coming, and I can’t seem to get out from under it.”
Hell. Now that? That was partially my fault. I’d confessed my want of her because I’d seen the way the mention of whoever the hell Greg was had hurt her. She’d flinched, the light draining from her pretty eyes. I couldn’t see that and let her go on thinking she wasn’t . . . everything. Then I’d fucked it up.
This woman turned me inside out, but she was precious and needed to know it.
Music drifted over the lawn. Nice and slow, a song about love and longing. Up by the house, couples danced under the string lights. I held out my hand. “Dance with me, Em.”
She searched my face, as though not certain she’d heard me correctly. Did I ever want to publicly dance? No. But for her? With her? I held steady.
And when she slipped her hand into mine, something deep inside my chest clicked. Lock and key, she fit. I pulled her into the shelter of my arms, content to dance here in the semidarkness. She didn’t appear to mind but melted against me with a sigh, her head resting on my chest, as though she could no longer hold it up.
That was fine; I could do the lifting for both of us. My free hand slid up her neck and into the warmth of her hair. And she sighed, the action moving through her body into mine. I closed my eyes and tilted my head just enough to feel the crown of her head beneath my cheek. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Her broken whisper pierced my heart. “How do you know?”
“Because I believe in you.”
Her body jolted before she sighed. “I believe in you too, Lucian.”
God. Why did that hurt so much? I wanted to do right by this woman, show her the best of me, not just the broken edges. I didn’t answer but simply held her.
We barely moved, just the slightest sway to give a nod to dancing. Emma let go of my hand and snuggled closer, her arms wrapping around my waist. A lump rose in my throat as I followed suit, winding my arm around her slim waist, holding her. Just holding her.
It wasn’t a dance. It was a hug. Because she needed it. And while my mind picked up the particulars—the press of her breasts against my upper abs, the way her thighs touched mine, the warmth of her body—it didn’t feel purely sexual. It felt like salvation. I hugged her, but she changed me from the inside out. It had been a lonely year, empty and cold, but here in the darkness, I felt whole. I hugged her because I needed it too.
It was almost too much, the exposed emotion. Like a raw wound being poked. But she felt too good to let go. And I was tired of resisting. Just plain tired of everything but her.
We swayed to Fiona Apple’s husky voice singing “I Know,” and when it ended, another song came on, a little more upbeat, but Emma stayed where she was.
“Thank you,” she finally said, tilting her head back to meet my eyes.
Her face was light and shadows, eyes gleaming in the dark. I wanted to touch her cheek, see if it was as cool and smooth as it looked, but I couldn’t seem to let go. Her gaze moved over my face, and I felt the exact moment she started thinking again. Her body tensed just enough to put a sliver of space between us. I wanted that space back, but I held still, kept my voice gentle.
“You okay?” I asked.
“What a question,” she said with a small husk of a laugh.
I found myself smiling. “I know it’s difficult assessing these feelings, Snoopy.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Snoopy is a dog, you realize.”
She said it as though slightly offended, like I’d never called her the name before. But it was all there in her face, the need to tease and be teased, to lighten the mood that had fallen over us. I got it. In truth, I needed it too.
“A cute dog.”
“You’re comparing me to a dog.” Her brows rose like punctuation. “A dog.”
God, she was cute.
“What do you have against dogs?”
“Not a thing.” She rested her head on my chest again. “I just don’t want to be called one.”
Fighting a grin, I turned her, dancing now. “Stop fishing for compliments, Em. You don’t need them.”
“I don’t?”
“Oh, come on, I told you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” I glanced down at her upturned face and lost my breath. “You’re stunning.”
“You still unhappy about that, Brick?”
My chin touched the top of her head. “Yes.”
“Years I worried that men only wanted me for my looks. And now you come along, and you’re pissed off I’m pretty.” She sounded so aggrieved I wanted to chuckle.
“Stunning,” I corrected, a smile blooming when she growled. My lips ghosted over the warm skin near her temple. “It’s hard enough staying away from you.”
A tremor went through her slim body, but she kept her tone bland. “And you think if I was unattractive, it would be easier?”
I paused, considering the question. “No, even then.”
Her breath hitched, and I knew there would be more questions. Things that would change this moment of quiet perfection.
I put my hand on her head and guided her back to the spot on my chest that felt like it already belonged to her. “Stop thinking so much. Rest here for a while and just dance, little honeybee.”
“It’s a good thing you’re so comfortable to lean on,” she grumped without heat. “Otherwise, I’d protest this bit of manhandling.”
I let my cheek rest on her head once more. “Don’t worry; you can return the favor and order me around later.”
Weirdly, I was counting on that.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Emma
Avoidance could only go so far. Eventually, one had to give in. Lucian and I stayed at the wedding until the last of the guests began to amble to their rooms. And then we left too. To our room.
It had been all fun and games when I had teased him about our single room earlier. It didn’t feel that way now. Not when he’d danced with me under the stars and told me he believed in me. No one had ever said that to me. Not like that, as though it came straight from their very core. Lucian believed in me. It changed everything. I wanted him. Him. No one else.