My shoulders fall with my sigh, and I tilt my head, imploring eyes desperately trying to get him to see me. Why doesn’t he ever see me? “This camp is my home, Anderson. It’s the first home I’ve ever truly had. I’m not unhappy, but there are things I want that I’m not getting here.” Like you, I want to scream.
Living on a small island off the coast of the Pacific Northwest comes with endless perks. It also comes with its burdens, and those are the ones I’m fighting off right now. I’m not getting any younger, and it’s starting to feel like my life has stalled, in a sense.
“You recently got a raise. All your medical is paid for, not to mention your room and board.” He waves his hand as though he’s provided me with the best digs in the world. “You’re one of my best senior staff members, Hope. If you’re going to leave, I would appreciate some notice.”
My jaw drops. “Is that all you care about? Notice? Is two weeks sufficient, or do you need more?” My sass, like his anger, is out of character.
Anderson takes a step in my direction, his eyes flashing with emotion that appears to carry more fear than anger. “You could have at least told me what you were considering. Instead, I had to find out from chatter in the dinner hall after you’d left.”
It had been a mistake to tell my coworkers. The island is small, but the camp is smaller. Gossip travels fast.
“I’m sorry.” I chew on my bottom lip, trying to choose my words carefully. “It didn’t feel right telling you when I hadn’t even made up my mind. There’s a lot to consider.”
“Like?”
I throw my arms up. “I don’t know. All the pros and cons, I guess. Give me a break, okay? If I do choose to leave, it’s not like I won’t help you find someone to replace me.”
“No one can replace you.”
His gruff voice is filled with so much emotion, my throat thickens with my next swallow. “That was a sweet thing to say.”
“Well, it’s true.” He blows out a breath and pans his eyes to the ceiling. “Which is why you should take the job.”
My breath halts in my lungs as my heart clenches with its unrelenting grip. “Why do you always do that?” I slam my palms to my side. “You say something sweet, and then you take it away like you meant something completely different. Do you want me to stay? Or do you want me to take the job?”
“I want you to be happy.” His gaze settles back on me. “I want you to feel fulfilled and valued. You shouldn’t have any regrets, and if you don’t take this opportunity, then you just might.” His face relaxes. “You’ll always have a job here if it doesn’t work out.”
Why do I feel like Anderson is pushing me away before I’ve even made up my mind? “That’s kind of you, but there’s still a lot to consider. Seattle is a big city.” I wrinkle my face. “There’s traffic, skyscrapers, and fast food.” Another troubling thought comes to me. “And where would I even live?”
“I’m sure the pay they’re offering you is more than triple what I’m able to pay you here.” The bitterness isn’t lost in his tone.
Instinct draws me closer. I’m well accustomed to the tall, brick walls that surround Anderson. After chipping away at them over the past three years, I’m dying to take a wrecking ball to them to finally break through.
“I don’t work at Camp Dakota for the money.”
“Camp Bexley,” he corrects.
Frustration rolls over me in waves. “Sorry. I’m still getting used to that.”
Despite the intense moment we’re sharing, I can admit the camp’s name change is a huge accomplishment of his—one of many since Anderson took full control of the family business. He’s proud, as he should be.
“Well, if you aren’t going to fire me, then I think we should end this conversation now. I’m not making any decisions tonight.”
Anderson’s rock-hard stance remains unchanged, but his throat bobs, making me desperate to know what’s going on under that thick skull of his.
He must finally accept my request because he nods, jaw tight, and sits down in the oversized chair. “I’ll stay until the storm passes.”
With a sigh, I walk over to the floor lamp to switch it off. As I do, I catch sight of my reflection in the wall mirror. Anderson is there, too, his eyes roaming my backside and locking on my ass. When I pause a second too long, it must alert him, because his eyes shoot up just in time to see he’s been caught, before I switch off the light.
When I slide beneath my covers, I know sleep will be impossible. I’m too worked up, and with Anderson only a few feet away, guarding me like he’s the protector of my nightmares, I find myself reading more into the situation than is probably true.
“Anderson.” His name is a shallow whisper.
“Hope.”
My heart beats faster, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to work up the nerve to speak again. “There’s plenty of room next to me.” I scoot over and lift the comforter lightly, not sure if he can see me with the dim light of the sky streaming through the cracks in the blinds.
I’m used to his rejection, and I’m ready for it. But for some reason, no words come, just the rustle of his clothes against the chair as he stands, then the slow and deliberate footsteps that bring him to the edge of my bed.
My breath catches in my throat when I hear the clank of his belt as he unbuckles it. The sound of leather sliding slowly against his belt loops comes next. But it’s the thud of his jeans hitting the wood floor that sends my blood pumping straight to my heart.
When he climbs in beside me, I turn onto my side to face him. He didn’t even hesitate at my invitation, and now here he is mere inches away. This is why my feelings for Anderson Bexley are and will always be so fucked up. He gives me an inch, and I become desperate, rabid, to take a mile.
“You should take the job, Hope.” His voice cracks on my name.
My chest squeezes. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“Everyone leaves.”
His words are like a vise on my heart, clamping and squeezing the life out of me every time he speaks. “I won’t.”
“Well, you should. You deserve so much more than I could ever give you.”
I scoot toward him, placing my hand on his chest, my eyes pleading with his. “All you have to do is ask me to stay.” My heart is pounding so furiously I almost miss the hand that slides around my waist and pulls me toward him.
With his eyes squeezed shut and a long release of a sigh, his forehead leans against mine. Our lips are only inches apart, and the buzz I’ve always felt between us only grows stronger.
“Please, Anderson. Say something.”
All he has to do is say the words and give me one small clue that this thing between us isn’t entirely in my imagination.
“I can’t ask that of you.”
His words feel like a slap in the face. Frustration blows through me. With as much time as I’ve given him to meet me halfway, I finally feel as though I’m at my breaking point. How can he be this close to me, and this close to losing me, and not give me anything in return? At this point, I have nothing else to fear.
“Well, then don’t.” I bring my lips closer, inviting him in. “Show me.”