The part that’d been so affected by her breakup won. She steered the subject away from anything that had to do with intimacy.
“Nope, Madame Karma was just all about business and lifelines. And if I’ve screwed up my chances for making the candy shop the best it can be by not ‘going with the flow,’ I’ve got to change that.”
Great. Even business talk was making her anxious. Was there anything that
Wes stopped flirting, clasping her hand instead. “What is it?”
Biting the inside of her lip, she continued, thinking it was actually kind of nice to have Wes as a sounding board for this since it was hard to lay all her fears out for Cheryl.
“Cheryl’s really gung ho about the franchising, but I’m the one who’s dragging my feet.
Bull. She knew better.
“Expanding isn’t something to look so down and out about,” Wes said.
“I’m scared.” There. She’d voiced it. And she wasn’t just talking about the shop, either.
“Scared of what?”
She risked a peek up at him. “Of failing, I suppose. I guess moving toward franchising would…” She stopped, made a confused face because what she was about to admit didn’t make much sense when expressed in words. “I guess taking this next step would mean that this is it, this is my life, and if the attempt fails, where do I go next? What do I do? And-” she swallowed “-would I be able to handle the fallout?”
“Right. Those damned transitions.”
As the words hung there, the wind seemed to cuff around them, avoiding them as much as
But Wes wasn’t letting it go. “It’s more comfortable to be safe, to stay with what you know. Comfortable but not fulfilling.”
She looked out to the sea: the moon-glowed water, the endless spaces of unknown territory. They were officially talking about more than just her shop now; he was hinting at how her fear extended from business to personal, and he sounded as if he cared about transitions way more than she’d ever guessed he could.
But why would he give a damn about being a transitional link in her life? Wes Ryan, the player, wouldn’t be that invested in her.
Or…would he?
When she glanced up at him, he was watching her so intensely that her breath caught in her lungs, chopped off. All she could hear was the thud of her heartbeat, its rhythm escalating.
“You just don’t want to risk making the wrong choice,” he said, “right?”
The mere mention of it made her ill because she’d come so close to making the wrong choice with William. It’d take time to summon the will to try again.
But Wes wasn’t done. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say that you’re afraid to turn anything in your life into something bigger.”
He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t be offering himself up for something more than a light affair.
It struck her: maybe Madame Karma’s prediction hadn’t been so ridiculous after all.
Oh, God. Freaking out now…
“Wes.” She straightened up, no longer so relaxed. “There’re some things in life that are best left to the status quo. Maybe sometimes things are better left alone.”
He slid a look at her-a look so laced with buried meaning that she straightened, heart beating in her ears.
“I’ve always been good at making people think they’ve gotten the best part of the deal, Erin. That’s how I got through school-with the right excuses to my teachers, with smiles and promises. And that’s how I’ve made my way in business and life, especially with women. I’ve enjoyed my share of them, but I’ve never been very honest. Not with them, not with myself.”
“Wes-”
“Wait. Just hold on, okay?” He took in a breath, then huffed it out. “I’ve attempted to get serious with a partner two times. With the first, she turned out to be a Clippers fan,” he said, his expression wry, “so that didn’t work because when they played the Lakers-hell, the competitive spirit between us got ugly.”
He assessed Erin with a gaze, searching for something she wasn’t giving him. Couldn’t give him.
Then, obviously not getting what he wanted, he continued. “After that supremely deep relationship, I waited, then tried again with a woman who was great at first, but ended up being prone to asking why I needed to have my space every so often.
Below them, the ocean splashed and broke apart against the ship. That was the only sound right now, because she wasn’t about to reveal anything about her own fractured past. It’d only make her angry again, whipping up all the ugliness she’d been running from.
“So that’s my story,” Wes said. “I’ve been wondering about yours, Erin.”
“Why?” Defensive. Already, the negativity was gathering. She wasn’t sure being with another person brought out the best in her.
But Wes wasn’t giving up. He was holding on to her hand, clearly determined not to let her go. The realization spurred her to fear, cornered her, forced her to do something rash and effective.
“You really want to know about my little history?” she asked, voice on edge.
“Yeah.” Wes looked hopeful and, somewhere inside, there was a distant sense of her heart softening.
“All right, here’s my rather pathetic resume.” She’d gone rigid, as cold as self-preservation needed to be. “High school? Dated normally, if not frequently. College? Met the supposed man of my dreams and lost my virginity to him, thinking he’d be my life. After college? Engaged to the guy. For six years. And when I finally realized he didn’t actually want to get married, I did the bravest thing I could and broke it off. I realized how, over the years, I’d stopped loving him somewhere along the way. Actually, my family ended up more devastated than I was, and that hurt me more than any breakup. I didn’t like what I’d brought down on them.” She cleared her throat of the emotional debris. “And now? Dating normally again, making up for all the time I wasted.”
It was the first time she’d gone into such detail with him, and he looked as if she’d pressed a just-extinguished match to his skin. It didn’t burn so much as leave an ash mark that shocked more than hurt.
Gradually, he regained composure, back to the confident player he presented to the world. Problem was, Erin knew there was more to him than that.
“You’ve already found ‘the one,’” Madame Karma had said.
No. God, no, she wasn’t ready, didn’t want to know that he could be affected by her and her by him.
“Why don’t you just come out with it?” he finally said. “Tell me that I’m the type of guy who isn’t good for anything more than a few weeks of…fun.”
When she didn’t answer, his shoulders lost their arrogant line. His gaze lost some of its confident shimmer, too.
The change bent her heart into a shape that didn’t belong in her chest; the warp of it made clear to her what she really wanted to feel for Wes-if she could just allow herself to do it.
But she wouldn’t. It’d destroy her right now. So she brought back the angry girl who’d been left in the dust by a man who never did value her.
Her body language shouted defensiveness, and Wes clearly didn’t have any trouble comprehending. Without a word, he left Erin standing there, the breeze whispering something that sounded like “curse” in her ears.
She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, that this jinx was actually a good thing.
Because, maybe, just maybe, this curse was fate’s way of protecting her from making yet another huge mistake.