A part of her wanted to flee, but apparently a bigger part wanted to throw herself at him, because she heard herself say, “Just tell me the penance already.”
Good Lord. Not Take a hike or Eff off…just Tell me the penance.
Seriously? she asked herself, and perfect, now she was actually sweating. Around them, the temp had dropped, but she was sweating.
Unlike her, Jacob showed no sign of sweating, or being ruffled in the slightest. Instead, he cocked his head and studied her like a bug on a slide. Except she didn’t feel like a bug. Not with his eyes so dark and warm, his lips curved in a way that made her own mouth dry.
She wanted that damn kiss. Wanted it bad too. Which settled it—she needed to sell the boat and get her own place with a nice hot shower that had a handheld showerhead so she could go back to taking care of her own business, business that she’d sadly neglected lately.
When the corners of his mouth curved further, more panic filled her. What if he could read her mind?
Reaching out, he wrapped his hand around her wrist, tugging until she stood directly in front of him, looking down at his big, hard body sprawled out on her bench.
“I want four straight truths,” he murmured softly, staring up at her. “And then I want my original reward.”
The kiss.
Her knees quivered. Other parts did too. And an intense heat flashed through her, but she had a decent sense of self-preservation, and her inner alarm was going off now. This man was a danger to her mental stability. And maybe her heart too.
And yet she still didn’t run. “My truths are ugly,” she said.
And they were. She’d grown up with a father who’d been ill a lot of the time, and when he hadn’t been ill, he’d been deeply depressed. She’d spent most of her childhood trying to get his attention, to please him, but neither had ever happened. So what had she done? She’d fallen in love with the first guy who’d turned his head for her and given her an ounce of attention—a guy who’d been rich and charming and utterly unreachable.
And she’d never been able to reach or please him either.
Of course, she’d then compounded her error and had married him young. Not even twenty-one when she’d given him her vows, she’d spent the next few years knowing she wasn’t good enough for him and never would be, no matter how much she tried.
And she’d tried it all. There’d been a lot to do as Mrs. Lucas Worthington III. It’d been exciting for about a month and then…completely overwhelming.
Sophie’d had a life before she’d married Lucas. She’d worked at a law firm, heading toward becoming a paralegal, and had loved the demanding work. She’d had her own friends. But being Lucas’s wife had come with a lot of demands. Too many to half-ass it. Needing to make him happy, she’d given up her own ties and the job she’d loved to do the Stepford wife thing. She’d joined the Junior League for Lucas’s business, doing everything she could to make his life easier.
While losing her own. “Very ugly,” she added softly.
Jacob ran the pad of his thumb over their entwined fingers. “We all have ugly truths,” he said.
She knew that. And though she didn’t trust him—she didn’t trust anyone—she somehow knew that if she was honest, he would be too. She had no idea how she knew this about him, a perfect stranger, she just did.
Unable to think clearly with his hand on her, she pulled free and sat down. She pulled her legs up close and wrapped her arms around them. “One.” She sucked in a deep breath, and there in the dark of the night, admitted her mistakes. “I married the first man to give me the slightest bit of attention because I was young and stupid and way too trusting.”
Jacob nodded, noncommittal, not judging, and somehow that gave her the courage to go on. “Two, I compounded my error by giving up my life to help him live his.” She paused, but Jacob still sat there, calmly, quietly, like he had all the time in the world for her.
“Three,” she went on. “Predictably, I couldn’t please him, and it was like with my dad all over again. The harder I tried, the worse it got, until I completely lost myself—my own fault.” God. This was hard. “And four…” She paused. Four was the worst one to admit because it made her an active participant in what had proven to be the lowest point of her life. She closed her eyes and dropped her forehead to her knees, not wanting to see what he thought of her when she made the confession. “In retribution, in the divorce I took the one thing he loved above all else. I wanted to hurt him, and now I’m the stupid one who has nothing but this stupid boat.”
Jacob didn’t speak.
Sophie let out a slow breath and stayed still, telling herself there was no reason to be embarrassed. What did she care what he thought of her? But oh, how she wished he’d speak.
She startled when one of Jacob’s big hands stroked up her back and settled on the nape of her neck. Warm. Sure. “Did he hurt you, Sophie?” he asked.