It’s really not much, but it’s something I hope might become a tradition.
Now his words made sense, the meaning behind his remark teeming with assumptions…and complications. “Tradition” implied something lasting, tied up with commitment, and the future. A custom passed on from year, to year, and shared with loved ones.
Oh, Lord. While she wanted to maintain a casual relationship with Austin, he’d sailed headlong into forbidden territory, making subtle insinuations she was too scared to face.
Feeling suffocated, and unable to think straight, she pasted on a smile, and turned to face him. “This is great,” she said way too brightly. “Let’s decorate it. I’ll make some popcorn and we can string it and put it on the tree.”
She started toward the kitchen, but he caught her arm, stopping her. His gaze flickered over her face, and she desperately tried not to let her fear show.
“This isn’t everything, Teddy.” His tone was so gentle, she wanted to weep.
“It’s certainly enough,” she said, the double meaning escaping on choked laughter.
He hesitated, his own expression momentarily uncertain. Then his gaze cleared, and his fingers slid from her upper arm down to her hand, which he held loosely in his palm. “I know it happened very quickly, but I love you, Teddy.”
Her stomach sank, and she visibly flinched at the words, so sweet, so powerful…so terrifying. She shook her head in denial. “No, please, don’t.”
“Don’t love you?” he asked, surprise etching his features. “It’s too late, because I’m already too far gone. Don’t say the words? I have to, because I want you to know how serious I am about you. About us.”
She pulled her hand from his, her anxiety nearly overwhelming her. “This is too much, too fast…”
The beginnings of a frown appeared on his face, exposing a niggling of concern. “I know you told me that you don’t have time for a relationship right now, but I’d think after the past week, hell, after last night, you’d make time. What we have together is more than just an itch we both need to scratch.”
Her face flushed, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of being smothered. Of becoming just as accommodating as her sisters-in-law, and her mother. Of eventually losing her own identity. “Why can’t we just have an affair, and enjoy our time together for as long as it lasts?”
He jammed his hands on his hips, his eyes darkening to a fierce shade of green. “So, you want to use me for sex?”
His harsh voice sent a trickle of uneasiness skidding down her spine. She’d obviously provoked him, but admitting the truth behind her fears was far better than leading him astray with false promises. “I enjoy being with you, Austin, but I’ve got a job to think about, and a committed relationship would demand more time than I have to give right now.” Her words sounded selfish to her own ears but, dammit, she cherished her independence, the freedom to come and go as she pleased, without answering to anyone.
Her mental assurance lacked a certain conviction she refused to analyze.
Irritation tightened his jaw. “I’ve got my own business to run, and I’m not demanding anything more from you than you’re willing to give. I was hoping we could meet somewhere in the middle.”
She rubbed her forehead wearily, knowing from experience that it rarely worked out so compatibly. Relationships turned demanding in time, and eventually destructive. She shook her head, feeling torn and confused, but ultimately holding on to the belief that balancing a career and relationship wasn’t for her. “I…can’t,” she whispered achingly.
“Why not?” he persisted.
His direct question stirred up many answers, and a whole lot of resentments she’d kept tucked away for so many years. Turning away, she moved deeper into the living room, away from the vibrant heat of Austin’s body, and attempted to explain her reasons the best she could.
“It’s taken me years to finally become my own person, to finally break free of my family’s influence. Ever since I was a little girl, my parents have had certain expectations of me. As a teenager, I was groomed to be a ‘lady,’ went to every country-club dance there was and dated ‘respectable’ boys. And when I graduated from high school, my mother set me up with an endless string of potential husband prospects. Every guy I went out with came from an affluent family, and usually after the second or third date my mother was hinting at a wedding. That’s when I broke things off with the guy I was dating, before my mother had the chance to throw an engagement party.”
Standing by the Christmas tree, she reached out and tentatively touched one of the limbs, trying not to let the sentiment behind Austin’s gift get the best of her. She’d never known a man so sweet, so selfless, yet her misgivings and fears wouldn’t allow her to accept what he so generously offered.
Swallowing the huge knot forming in her throat, she continued. “All I wanted was to go to college and pursue a career in graphic design, which I loved. All I got from my parents was nothing but grief, because I was too focused on a career when there was no need for me to work. They disapproved of my choices, and ever since the age of eighteen, I’ve been nothing but a disappointment to them.” She glanced over her shoulder at Austin, meeting his gaze and praying he wouldn’t hate her too badly once this was over. “You saw what I went through last night.”
Something in his eyes softened, and he stepped toward her. “Teddy—”
She held up a hand to ward him off, wanting him to know everything. One touch from him, and she’d lose all train of thought. “Then there was Bartholomew Winston, who was, of course, handpicked by my father and came with my mother’s full approval. He was a banker like his father and grandfather before him, came from old money, and was wealthy enough to impress my parents. After a few months of dating Bart, I finally gave in to the pressure. I had a ring on my finger, a wedding date set, and china patterns all picked out.”
“Did you love him?” Austin asked, that question seemingly important to him.
“No, I didn’t love him,” she admitted, a sad smile touching her mouth. “I cared for him, and I thought that was enough, because he was the first guy who understood and accepted my goals.” She’d learn later that his approval was all an illusion, a way to temporarily appease her. “For the first time in longer than I could remember, my mother and I had a decent relationship. She was in her glory making wedding plans, and I tried to convince myself that I could be happy.” She couldn’t contain the self-deprecating laugh that bubbled out of her. “About three months
before the wedding, my parents sat Bart and I down and told me that now that I was getting married to a very prominent man, I should give up this foolishness of having a career. Certainly I couldn’t be a proper wife if I was busy working outside the mansion,” she added sarcastically.
He stood there, too far away, arms crossed over his wide chest, watching her with unfathomable eyes, listening, waiting. He appeared so patient, so understanding, yet there was something in his stance that promised something a bit more charged.
She drew a deep breath, and tightened the sash on her robe, not to keep the lapels together, but in an attempt to keep herself from falling apart. “Bart agreed with my parents, when I thought all along he understood how important being a graphic designer was to me. But he changed his tune, insisting that he wouldn’t have a wife who worked when there was no need for her to do so. And so I insisted that he take his ring back and find a more submissive female who wanted to be his keeper.”