“But it doesn’t feel totally right either?” he said. “I mean, you’ll only go out with me as long as no one knows? I don’t like that. It feels like a dirty secret or somethin’.”
She lowered her hands and took a step forward, closing the distance between them. As she stood before him, she reached up to palm his smooth cheek with her hand.
“It’s not a dirty secret. It feels right,” she assured him softly. “When it’s just you and me, I promise it feels right, Cain.”
“Then . . .?”
“. . . but it’s also complicated.”
Cain rotated his face so that his lips kissed her hand, then he reached for it, fisted her fingers gently around the kiss, and let go. “I tell you what . . . I’ll take you somewhere that isn’t Apple Valley tonight if we talk about what makes this so complicated. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, following him out of the office but wondering where in the world to begin.
***
She gave him her keys so he could drive, and because he wanted a chance to really talk to her, he decided to take her to his townhouse. For one thing, it was halfway between Versailles and Apple Valley, but for another, he wanted her all to himself, and what better way to ensure that they had privacy and quiet to talk than going to his place?
However, now that they were in the car, Ginger had clammed up. She wasn’t saying much of anything.
“Gin?” he said as they drove away from Wolfram’s Motorcycles. “Tell me why it’s complicated.”
“Where do I even start?”
He shrugged. “Wherever you want.”
“You’re Woodman’s cousin.”
“Yes, I am.”
“It looks bad for me to be datin’ you a few months after he died.” She sighed, turning away from him. “He only died in October. It’s January. And if you and I start datin’, it’ll look like I didn’t really love Woodman.”
“Of course you loved him.”
When five seconds of silence had passed, Cain looked over at Ginger.
She was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyebrows furrowed, as she stared down at her lap.
“Of course you loved him,” he repeated slowly, staring at her profile.
Her jaw was granite, but she blinked several times.
He pulled over, cutting the engine and turning to look at her.
“Tell me you loved him, Gin,” he murmured.
“Not like I was supposed to,” she finally whispered.
“What does that mean?”
She turned to face him, her eyes swimming, her lips tilted down. “I loved Woodman. He was my best friend, but I . . . I was never . . .” She took a deep breath and held it as she finished, “I was never in love with Woodman.”
I was never in love with Woodman.
Cain stared at her, letting the words sink in, letting their full meaning unravel. “Wait, what? What do you mean?”
She swallowed, looking away from him, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I loved him like a friend. I wasn’t in love with him. Ever.”
“You were goin’ to marry him.”
She nodded, a small jerking movement. “I tried to love him like he wanted me to. God, I swear I tried. I wanted to. I wanted to love him just as much as he loved me.” Her voice was hushed and low as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. “But I couldn’t.”
His eyes, unfocused as he stared straight ahead, closed slowly.
“Why not?”
He knew. He knew why. He knew because the same feelings that had survived in her broken heart had also survived in his.
“There was always s-someone else in my heart,” she said, her voice breaking.
He clenched his eyes shut tighter as the implications of her words took root in his head. My God, is it possible she’s still in love with me? Please.
“And I couldn’t let that someone go,” she sobbed softly. “I wanted to hate him. Christ, I wanted to hate him so badly, and part of me did for a long while. But I couldn’t get him out of my heart no matter how hard I tried.”
“Princess . . .,” Cain whispered into the darkness, opening his eyes and facing her. “Ginger.”
“I know you didn’t want me, Cain. I know you didn’t love me like I loved you, but I—”
“I did, Ginger,” he said. “I did want you. I did love you. I just—”
“What?” she gasped, her eyes wide, her mouth gaping open. “What are you talkin’ about? You called me a bitch. You told me to go. You left that night. You—”
“I didn’t leave. I mean,” he gulped. “I did eventually, but not at first—”
“What are you—”