“Then don’t,” he cut in, emboldened by the indecision he could see flitting around in her gaze. What if they could spend all their time together kissing instead of arguing? Then no one had to think about logic and issues and other stuff that shouldn’t have become such a big deal.
“Then stop trying to confuse me!” She threw up a hand as if to ward him off, though he hadn’t moved.
“You wanted that kiss as much as I did. Don’t deny it.”
“I…” She couldn’t, that much was clear. Probably because she knew he’d call her a liar. “Maybe we can call it a lapse in judgment. Can we leave it at that?”
“So now I’m that fattening piece of cake you think isn’t good for you, but you can’t resist a taste?” Anger licked through his gut as her back-and-forth started to fray at his temper. “News flash. I’m not the kind of guy you can take a bite of and walk away.”
“Because you’re that good of a kisser?” Her own temper started flaring in the depths of her blue eyes. “That’s so vain. I can say no to cake all day long, thank you.”
“Because I’m not going to let you,” he countered, opting not to call her out on that one either since clearly that wasn’t true. “I don’t do things by half. I don’t let go easily. And I can’t stop the way I feel about you.”
Probably that was the last thing he should have said, but he was so tired of dancing around her. So tired of feeling a little bit broken and wishing she’d hold him together a little longer before bouncing away.
She went so still he thought about checking her pulse, but then she blinked about twenty times and exhaled. “What way is that?”
Since she’d asked, he told her.
“Like the carpet has been pulled out from under me repeatedly. As if I can’t quite catch my breath. Sunlight is brighter when you’re around.” He bit off the rest, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m sure there’s more where that came from. But you don’t want to hear any of that because you think I’m going to hurt you, so you don’t even give me a chance. I’m trying here, Havana. Can’t you see how hard I’m working to earn my way into your life?”
She flinched, recoiling enough to snap her ponytail backward. “Earn your way? Is that what you’re doing?”
“Yeah.” Too caught up in the reconciliation of his demons, he couldn’t look at her any longer and paced the length of his makeshift office. “I’ve got blood on my hands. I get that you don’t trust me enough to let me touch you with them. Where’s the breaking point though? When will it be enough for you
to finally say, okay Caleb—you can stop now and just be with me?”
“Is that what you’re waiting on?” she whispered. “For me to recognize that you’ve atoned for what happened in Syria? I’ve never even once thought about that as a reason we can’t be together, because that’s not for me to judge. You have to get that straight with yourself.”
He shut his eyes for a beat as the truth of that—the inescapable logic—settled deep inside. Those were all hollow excuses for something that shouldn’t be such an insurmountable problem. “Then what’s the real issue here? Why are we doing this to ourselves?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice broke, and her obvious anguish burrowed into his heart until he wanted to pull her into his embrace to hug it away. But he didn’t. This was too important to cut off prematurely because they both hurt. “Every time I think about throwing caution to the wind, I get this panicky feeling in my chest and it makes me shut down.”
All at once, he got it, cursing himself for being so colossally blind. “This is about you staying in control. Still.”
She nodded once as if processing and finally arriving at the conclusion that he might be on to something. “Maybe. Probably. I don’t know. I’m sorry if you thought this was about you. It’s not.”
“But you’re making it about me by not figuring out how to stop it.”
“I didn’t mean to.” She sniffled miserably. “I’m hurting you, which is the last thing I wanted. I tried to keep you at arm’s length to avoid that. It’s your own fault that you didn’t listen to me.”
“I’ll accept that.” It didn’t change anything to assign the proper blame for this situation. “Where does that leave us?”
“No place different than before. We’re still working together, and I have my own stuff to sort through before you can say okay, Havana. That’s enough now.” She lifted her lips in a watery smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
That was the tipping point. He threw his own caution to the wind and gathered her up in his arms for a bittersweet embrace that had none of the fire of the first one. Instead, there was a whole lot of understanding, regret, and just plain emotion wrapped up in it.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said into her hair, pausing long enough to inhale the coconut notes. “You have an open invitation to visit the mayor’s office anytime you feel like barging in here to sweep me off my feet.”
“Noted,” she said with more lightness than he’d have expected, which eased the pinch in his heart.
Somehow he let her go and spent another twenty minutes in her company as he went over the plans with her. He could do this. Patience wasn’t his favorite virtue, but he had honed his to a fine point as a SEAL. Havana was worth it.
Nothing had changed. And yet everything had. For the first time, he had hope they might eventually figure this out.
Eighteen
Havana’s chest went numb as she walked away from Caleb for what she fully expected to be the last time. Oh, she’d see him again, definitely. The town wasn’t going to plan itself. But she had no illusions about whether he’d really wait around for her to figure out how to stop being such a control freak about everything.