“It’s fine.” She moved closer so they could talk without the risk of anyone overhearing. “You don’t have to ask my permission to hold my hand.”
“Okay.” His brown eyes never left her face. It was so unnerving. The way he always seemed to search for what she was thinking, how she was feeling inside. She wasn’t used to that from men. From anyone. “Just checking. Just tell me if you feel weird about anything. I know we don’t know each other very well, and we’ve trapped ourselves in this artificial closeness.”
“Yeah, but I feel like I know you better than I did.” She smiled, studiously ignoring the tingles of pleasure his touch was still generating. She rubbed his thigh in a flirtatious manner but didn’t let the touch linger. “And you’re not the worst person to get close to, if you want to know the truth.”
His smile was surprised, authentic. “Yeah?”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “How is it you manage to come across as so unassuming when you have to know you’re the romantic hero for half the Green Valley daydreams?”
He chuckled. “Let’s not exaggerate.”
“I’m not exaggerating. I’m telling you it’s true. Even I, who am mostly immune to your charms, had more than one choice daydream about you back in high school.”
“Yeah?” He straightened up, leaning toward her slightly like he really wanted to hear this.
“Yes. I told you that before.”
“Sure, but I figured you were just saying it. I thought you were into Lincoln.”
“I was. I mean, just from a distance. He’s hot, and I was always into bad boys. But that didn’t mean I didn’t have silly fantasies about you too.”
“Fantasies?” The rough texture to his voice made her shiver.
“Not those kinds of fantasies.” She pulled her hand away from his since his touch was clearly interfering with the clarity of her thinking. “Romantic fantasies. About you rescuing me from bad guys and falling helplessly in love. Bringing me flowers and jewelry and breaking into song to express your great love for me.”
He burst into warm laughter. It felt like a victory. “You’re kidding.”
His appreciation of her humor was going right to her head. She was warm and flushed and happy as she scooted a little closer to him, snuggling up at his side. “I’m not kidding. I was a silly teenager. My daydreams matched my maturity level. But they were just daydreams. Nothing serious. I mean, I didn’t know you at all, and you had no idea who I was.”
“And I’m not really your type.” Carter said the words with a matter-of-fact complacency that made it clear he wasn’t hurt by this assessment.
“No. Not really. Which is the only way our plan can work. Neither of us can be wanting something more than helping each other out.”
He gave a brief nod. “Right. Got it.” He paused and asked in a different tone, “So do you always go for the bad boys then?”
Ruth shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve always leaned in that direction. Not that any of them have ever worked out for me.”
“Why not?”
“Why not? What kind of question is that?”
“It’s a real question. Why shouldn’t it be?”
She’d never met another mature man who could come across as so sincere while still being sharp and intelligent. She had no idea how Carter managed it. “Because how is a person supposed to know why her attempts at romantic relationships don’t work out?”
“Some people know.”
“Do you?”
“No. I really don’t.”
“Me either,” she admitted. “I mean, I think I’m basically a nice, smart, relatively attractive person. But I think I mentioned this before. The guys I really like never like me. And the guys who do like me, just don’t...” She sighed. “They just don’t do it for me. I call it bad luck.”
“How do you know the guys you like don’t like you? Maybe they do, and you just don’t realize it.”
She gave him an impatient look. “Oh, I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I...” She cleared her throat. “I’m not exactly the most subtle of women. I say what I think. Sometimes I say a lot more than I should. If I’m into a guy, he knows.”
Carter tilted his head down so his face was only inches from hers. “Yeah? So you prefer to make the moves?”
“No. I do not prefer to make the moves. I’d much rather a man make the moves. But they never do. So then I tie myself into mental knots about exactly what you’re implying. Maybe the guy is into me and he doesn’t know I’m interested. What if I’m waiting around and letting a good thing slip away? So I...” She felt her cheeks burning as way too many cringe-worthy memories exploded in her mind. “I’ve been known to humiliate myself from time to time.”
“What have you done?” Carter didn’t look remotely surprised or uncomfortable or put off. He seemed fascinated. “Called guys up? Followed them around?”
She giggled, feeling better that he thought it was funny and not distasteful. “Occasionally. Not like I’m a stalker or anything. I’ve always had enough sense to stop before it got inappropriate. But I’ve called guys up and left rambling messages, practically throwing myself at them. I’ve shown up where I knew they’d be. I’ve even asked them out occasionally. None of that is... I mean, I think it’s fairly normal, and I don’t think it’s inappropriate. Just ended up embarrassing for me because the guys weren’t interested. What’s worse...”
She cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks still burning and knowing Carter would be able to see that. She shot him a quick look and saw he was waiting, that little concerned frown on his face. She took a breath and continued, “What I’d say is more of a mistake is too often I’ve held out hope for guys when I knew better. I knew better. They said yes when I asked them out, but they never initiated anything themselves. They were just going along with it because it was easy. I’ve had sex with guys who clearly just wanted a casual fling, but I convinced myself they’d fall for me soon. They’d want it to be serious. If I just held out, they’d... they’d... But of course they never did. I’ve assumed that guys were going to change for me when anyone with sense would know that they wouldn’t.”
Carter picked up her hand again while she spoke. This time he didn’t caress it. Just held it in an oddly comforting gesture.
She swallowed, not quite able to meet his eyes. “I think I’m basically a strong person. I mean, I’ve always been independent. People think I’m competent. And I’m not silly or naive or even particularly optimistic. Even back when I was doing all this with guys. I’d know—I really do know—that it’s better to be by myself than to be with a guy who isn’t going to make my life better. But...” She didn’t know why she was babbling out this very intimate confession, but it felt safe enough with Carter for her to continue. “But sometimes I would just... I would feel alone. And I’d get scared if I didn’t do everything to make it happen, I’d end up missing out. I’d have to stay alone. So despite my skepticism about romance, I just kept... chasing after it. And it makes me take whatever they want to offer—even if it’s not what I want—and pretend it’s enough.”