Blue was working at his cottage on the bluff tonight, and they planned on meeting later and spending the evening together, but the more Lizzie edited, the more she felt compelled to tell Blue about the show. She had at least another half hour of editing to do before she was done, but every second she watched drove the guilt deeper. With her heart in her throat, she packed up her laptop and headed over to Blue’s.
The property was dark, save for the lights inside the cottage. She stepped from the car into the cool night air, spotting Blue through an upstairs window, and paused to watch him for a moment. She wondered if he was thinking of her and what else might be on his mind. The longer she watched him, the deeper the pain of her reality cut. He was so loving, so trusting, and she was about to turn the lights out on the best relationship she’d ever had—and the only one she wanted. Blue had been hurt before, and she didn’t want to be the woman who hurt him again.
I already am.
She closed the car door and crossed the sandy path to the front door, feeling like she was walking a plank with no blindfold. Her eyes were wide-open—and she almost wished he’d happened across the show, or someone would tell him about it, because wouldn’t that be easier to deal with? She knocked on the door and waited, fighting the urge to retreat.
She heard music coming from inside and knew he couldn’t have heard her knock, so she pushed open the door. “Blue?”
The music drowned out her voice. She mounted the stairs feeling the oppression of her confession clinging to her. Blue was standing on a stepladder, painting the room the color of French-vanilla ice cream. The muscles in his shoulders bunched beneath his shirt as he painted along the edge of the molding. She could turn around and tiptoe out and he’d never know she was there. Just forget the whole idea and go back to the bubble she’d allowed herself to inhabit with him.
At the tail of that thought, Blue stepped from the ladder and turned to dip his brush in the paint, startling when he saw her. A smile spread across his lips. Lord he was sexy.
“Hey, babe. I wasn’t expecting you. Did I lose track of time?”
He strode across the floor with a warm look in his eyes. It was a look she’d already come to love, a look that said, I’m so glad you’re here. Kiss me. His arm swept her possessively against him as his lips claimed hers. Her entire body heated. He gazed at her with so much emotion in his eyes that she felt her resolve slipping away. Her breathing hitched, and her heart followed.
Oh my God.
She’d already fallen.
She grabbed his arm to steady her wobbly legs. I love you. She tried to evaluate those emotions, to pick them apart, but her mind was spinning. Maybe it was all the emotions coursing through her because of what she’d come to tell him. She looked into his eyes, and the side of his mouth curved up, sending a spear through her heart. No. It was him. All of him and all of her. It was the way they were together, the fun they had, the love they so easily shared. She loved him. There was no doubt, no hesitation, only heartfelt emotions.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” He pressed his lips to hers again.
Being in his arms was like coming home.
“Every time we’re apart,” he said, “I miss you more than I did the last time.”
Nothing had ever felt so right—and she’d never been so wrong. This was worse than walking the plank. This felt more like committing hari-kari.
The urge to change her mind and not tell him the truth was too strong, like she was battling a tangible presence. A literal skeleton that had moved out of the closet, looming behind him and waiting to be revealed with a few words. Words she didn’t want to say, words that would bring it to life, so the damn thing could move between them and drive them apart.
“I missed you, too,” she said honestly. “I’m sorry to interrupt your work.”
He closed the paint can and put a hand on the small of her back as they walked downstairs.
“You’re never an interruption. I can’t think of a better reason to stop working.”
Did he have to be so positive? Couldn’t he be a jerk for once and tell her that she was a big pain in the ass for interrupting or something else that was equally as jerky? That would make this much easier.
Blue washed out the brushes in the mudroom, while Lizzie paced the hallway trying to talk herself out of chickening out of coming clean.
He joined her a minute later with open arms, gathering her in close and smelling like heaven on legs. Why, oh why, did everything about him turn her inside out?
“Did you bring the whipped cream to work on your lists?” The spark in his eyes told her he was teasing, but that didn’t stop the realization from hitting her anew—she’d finally found someone she cared enough about, felt comfortable enough with—loved enough—to want to explore those lists.
She felt her cheeks flush when she met his heated gaze. “I was in such a hurry to see you…”
“God, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed.” He pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “I was only joking. Was your evening okay?” Blue asked. “Did you get everything done that you hoped to?”
“Um…Not really, but I wanted to come see you.” Because I’m an idiot. For the first time in Lizzie’s life, she wished she were one of those people who could live a lie without remorse.