“Still, I imagine it was hard to grow up without one of your parents.”
“I have no idea. Like I said, I never had him so it wasn’t like I missed him or anything.”
“So your mom pitched in and did double duty?”
She looked away, and it was clear her mind wasn’t on the present anymore. “Something like that.”
She downed the contents of her glass of champagne in two swallows, then slid off the bar stool. “Now I really do need to go. Good night, Cole.”
He wasn’t going to let her get away. He’d dug open this wound and it was up to him to close it. He caught up to her.
“Wait.”
She stopped, looked up. “What now?”
He winced at the raw pain in her eyes. “Let’s take a walk out back. You just poured down a pretty hefty glass of champagne. How about you let that settle before you drive?”
She paused, then nodded. “Fair enough. I do need to clear my head a little.”
He grabbed a bottle of water on the way out the back door.
The gardens were nice, with a path fringed by overhanging trees and bushes lining the sides. There was a waterfall at the end of the path, lit up by twinkling lights above. Romantic, he supposed, but what he liked about it was the privacy. And even better, no one was out here, so he tucked her arm in his and they took a leisurely stroll. A breeze had kicked up, obliterating the hellish heat that had blanketed the city during the day. They could at least breathe without the humidity suffocating them.
She wasn’t talking, so he let her simmer in silence for a few minutes while they walked the path.
“I don’t need you to handle me.”
He paused, turned to her. “Isn’t that your job?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m taking a beautiful woman who’s upset for a walk. You’re the one who handles people.”
She rubbed her temple. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have pried into your personal life. Not my business.”
She looked away to stare at a rosebush. “It’s my fault. I never talk about it.”
“Maybe you should.”
When she turned to him, he saw sadness in her eyes and wished he could turn back the clock, erase the time when he’d pried about her past.
“It’s best if I don’t.”
He didn’t agree. Things held inside festered. “Look, I’m like the worst person in the world to give advice since you obviously know I have character issues, but that shit boils inside you. Eventually it’ll find its way out.”
She laid her hand on his arm. “There’s nothing wrong with your character, Cole. Nothing that I’ve seen of your behavior indicates you’re anything but a fine, honorable man. Remember, it’s all about image.”
He liked what she’d said about him. It struck something deep inside him that was rarely touched. He also liked her touching him, didn’t want to do anything to change it.
But he wasn’t going to take advantage of her when she was vulnerable. That would make him the asshole the media portrayed him to be. “Well, my image needs work. That’s why I have you.”
He covered her hand with his and continued walking down the path.
“You confuse me,” she said.
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“How’s that?”
They stopped at the end of the path where the water fountain and lights met. Benches surrounded the fountain, so he sat her down, opened the bottle of water, and handed it to her. She took a couple sips, then recapped the bottle and handed it to him.
“You’re angry and tense half the time, and the other times just so damn sweet. I don’t know what to make of you.”
“I’m just a regular guy, Savannah. Not perfect, but not the big bad ogre the media makes me out to be.” He shrugged. “I have flaws. Maybe mine go under the microscope more than the average guy.”
She shook her head, then raised her hand and swept it along the side of his face. He actually found himself holding his breath, and he never did that. Not for any woman. But he did for Savannah, because her hand was like silk across the roughness of his face and he wanted to lean into that buttery softness so she’d continue to touch him.
“No, you are most definitely not just a regular guy, Cole.”
He shouldn’t do this. In fact, he’d just made a mental promise he wouldn’t. But he couldn’t help himself. He laid an arm around Savannah’s shoulders and tugged her against him. She went willingly and her head tilted back.
This time, she knew what was coming. Her lips parted, and he took the kiss.
He’d meant to just brush his lips across hers, something brief, and then he’d let her go. He wanted to give her comfort, a little reassurance. But that’s not what this was about, because a hunger took over, especially when she touched him.