I watched her practically crab-walk along the path toward the house. As she neared the back door, she nearly tripped over Medusa, who was trying to steal one of the zucchinis from the basket. While Charlie managed to stay upright, the basket got upended and zucchinis went flying. I got up with the intention of going to help the little girl, but Nash beat me to it.
I watched as he trotted over to her and began shuffling the zucchinis back into the basket as he said something to her. I was a little worried he’d say something to upset her, since his demeanor around the little girl, or any members of the Fortier family, for that matter, hadn’t exactly been warm. But whatever he said had Charlie nodding, then laughing. She snatched up Medusa while Nash grabbed the basket. His eyes met mine briefly as he turned to follow Charlie into the house. I felt a mix of pleasure and shame that I didn’t entirely understand.
I didn’t understand a lot of what was happening to me.
Except one thing – the nearly crippling guilt.
And the reason for it was pretty damn clear.
Nash scanned our surroundings before going inside. I knew he wouldn’t be in there long, since he was reluctant to let me out of his sight for any length of time. Whenever I was outside working in the garden, he spent the time walking the perimeter of the property, but never strayed far enough that he couldn’t see me. It was a strange thing – to know his eyes were always on me. I’d spent so many years with men and women watching my every move that I’d learned to tune it out. But with Nash, I was so very aware of it.
The only time Nash wasn’t nearby were the evenings I spent with Gage and his family in the house.
Like the night before.
Predictably, as soon as I thought of the events of the previous night, the pain in my chest came back.
Along with the need that had become like a living thing inside of me.
I’d known Gage was going to kiss me long before he’d done it and, in the end, I’d practically begged him to follow through with it when he’d hesitated. A part of my brain had been screaming at me not to let it happen, but the needs of my body had won out and I’d reveled in the sensation of Gage’s mouth on mine.
After I’d gotten past the fact that the gorgeous man was attracted to me enough to even want to kiss me, had come the stunning realization that it had felt every bit as good as when Pierce had kissed me for the first time so many years ago. The fact that memories of Pierce had intruded upon the moment had played into how I’d reacted to Gage, and when it’d become clear that he’d decided to back off, I’d ignored that voice for a second time and I’d practically assaulted the man.
The result had shaken me to my core.
If I’d hoped to have any control over my reaction to the kiss, I’d been sorely mistaken. And to make things worse, my body had overridden all reason.
My cheeks burned as I remembered how I’d grabbed Gage’s face and kissed him desperately.
Like a fucking madman.
It was only when Gage’s hands had settled on my ass that a shred of awareness had returned to me.
And that voice had taken advantage of that fact. First had come the insecurity as I’d tried to figure out what a beautiful, younger man would want with an old man like me. Then had come the terrible guilt as I’d remembered the man who’d been the first to kiss me like that – to make me feel those same things.
Logically, I knew it wasn’t possible to cheat on a dead man, but that was exactly what it had felt like. And in that moment, I’d doomed my chance with Gage.
Because I’d run like a scared little girl. I hadn’t even had the courage to try and explain myself or to apologize for my behavior.
The second I’d escaped the house, I’d practically run to the guest house, not even caring that Nash hadn’t been waiting out front for me as expected. I’d known the agent would give me hell when he found out that I’d left the house without him, but I hadn’t cared. I’d escaped to my bedroom and had started talking to Pierce, much in the same way I often did when I went to visit his grave.
Though this time, my conversation had revolved around what a horrible person I was for betraying him… us. I’d tried to reason out my behavior, but I hadn’t been able to. One thing I’d always known about myself was that I wasn’t someone who was wired to have meaningless sexual encounters. With my wife when I’d lost my virginity to her at the ripe old age of twenty-five, my reluctance to consummate the relationship could have been attributed to the colossal lie about myself I’d been hiding behind for most of my life. But things had been similar with Pierce too, despite the fact that I’d never been as in lust with someone in my entire life. It hadn’t been until our fifth encounter that we’d had sex.