She nodded. Her answering smile tweaking the corners of her lip, though not enough to make him relax. “Thank you. I’m sorry too, that our night had to end that way. But, it’s done.”
As easily as that? He watched her spoon rice and curry onto her plate, wondering at her ability to shut down a conversation, to not let him get close to understanding as they made small talk about the food, the spices, and the wine. This bloody dance they were doing. Knowing but not knowing. Lovers sharing bodies but not minds.
It was killing him that she kept the barricades up, that she wouldn’t let him in. That she stepped a foot back if he stepped so much as an inch forward.
Should he tell her he cared, and that maybe if she only shared what it was that was troubling her, that he might be able to help? Would she open up or would she close the door on their not-quite-a-relationship altogether?
There was only one way to find out, but knowing it might mean the end held him in check. Then again, she was here, tonight, and surely that meant something. So in the end he bit his tongue and chased curry and noodles around his plate, only half tasting the food.
When it had all turned to custard with Angie, when things had changed, he hadn’t fought it. He’d been just as guilty in their breakup and he’d let it slide. He hadn’t cared enough to save it.
He cared about losing Ava, though. Maybe because one year of casual hookups wasn’t anywhere near long enough to have had enough of her. His marriage had soured in the space of two. Maybe the novelty took longer to wear off when you didn’t live with someone day after day, although he couldn’t imagine ever getting sick of waking up to this woman.
“That was delicious, thank you,” said Ava, putting down her fork and leaning back in her chair.
He smiled tightly. At least he hadn’t managed to stuff up dinner. “Least I could do. Anything you’d like to do now?” he said, collecting dishes to rinse in the sink. “Watch a movie or maybe go for a walk?” He had the distinct impression she wasn’t looking for sex.
“Neither. Caleb, forget the dishes. Come and sit back down. We need to talk.”
A cannonball lodged in his gut. He turned to face her, to try to read her. She was so composed. Eerily composed. It was almost like she had an aura around her tonight, or a layer of armour plating that he couldn’t breach.
He sat down opposite her. “I’m listening.”
“What we have,” she started, “this thing between us, is special. I know I can call on you and you can call on me, and if it suits”—she shrugged—“well, then we can get together and it’s good.”
“Better than good,” he said, already not liking the way this conversation was heading.
She nodded. “Better than good, true. But what we have, it’s also fragile. It is what it is. It can’t be more than that, it can’t be bigger, or it will shatter. And, just lately, I’ve been worried.” She took a breath and Caleb held his. “I never thought that we might still be seeing each other after a year. And I wondered...” Her eyes glowed softly in the light. Sadly. “Lately, I’ve been wondering if one year was too long.”
Air hissed through his teeth. “Is that why you came tonight. To tell me we’re finished?”
She reached across the table and took his hand and laced her fingers through his. “No. Because I thought about it, and I’m not ready for it to end yet. I’m selfish and I’m not ready to pop this fragile bubble that we share. Not if we don’t have to.” She squeezed his fingers. “Do you understand?”
His head was spinning from the sudden change of direction, relief coming so close after the sucker punch of thinking she was ending it. He nodded as he drank in her perfect features, eyes the colour of liqueur brandy lit by firelight, a nose with just the right amount of kink to make it more real, more perfect, and a full mouth that could switch from sweet to sinful in an instant, and he knew he wasn’t ready to lose her. One year with this woman was nowhere near enough.
“You want things to stay exactly the way they are.”
“Yes. And I want us to stay the way we are, two individual people who meet up occasionally for mutual pleasure, whether that be sex or a meal or both, nothing more. And I realise I’m guilty of blurring the lines too. Getting you to pose for me – mixing pleasure with business – I realise that was a mistake.” She nodded. “But if this thing between us is to continue, that’s how it has to work. That’s all it can ever be. Agreed?”
Caleb wasn’t a man who was used to being dictated to. Angie had tried that – Angie of the complaints about his shift work and demands for him to spend more time with her, and in the end, Angie of the ultimatum – the job or her, and look where that had got her? But he also knew that a man would have to be a fool to say no to Ava, whatever her demands. A man would have to be a fool
