She shook her head. “No, not for them. Even if having your leg pressed against mine is extremely confusing.”
“Why?” I leaned closer.
Irritation flashed across her face. “You know why.”
Need tightened in my gut as the air thickened between us. My eyes dropped to her mouth, and honestly, I couldn’t give a fuck who saw us.
But as my head dipped toward hers, she spoke, halting my progress. “You know what hurt the most, Mac?”
I jerked back, dread filling me at her despondent tone.
Her gaze moved over my face, something indecipherable in it. “I don’t think it’s your rejection that still bothers me. It was how desperate I’d felt at that moment. Desperate for you to love me.” Tears glistened in her eyes, and a thick, painful lump rose in my throat. “I never ever want to feel that way again. That’s not who I want to be. I’m not that woman.”
Terrified by what that might mean, I grasped for her hand. “Arro, think about what’s behind that, though. Is it really to do with me, or did that come from something else?”
She yanked her hand away and hissed under her breath, “Of course, it was about you. You pulled me in and then pushed me away so many times over the years, I was so confused and mixed up about you.”
Flora suddenly appeared, her expression disapproving as she placed our coffees on the table. “I’ll be right back with the scones.”
We sat in tense silence as we waited for Flora to return. She hovered a second too long until I gave her a flat stare. Clearing her throat, she wiped her hands down her apron and walked away.
“We shouldn’t talk about this here,” Arro murmured.
I studied her downcast countenance. “Aye, I sent out a lot of mixed signals that didn’t help any … but, Arro, think about it. You grew up with four brothers who loved and adored you. What you have with them is more special than you realize. And I think it only emphasized the fact that your dad wasn’t there for you.” I leaned in, my voice low as she lifted her tortured gaze to mine. “A dad who didn’t tell you he loved you until he was dying. Of course, that fucked with your head. And along comes me”—emotion made me hoarse—“the first man you’ve ever romantically loved?”
She gave me a brittle nod.
“And I make you feel like I love you back, but I never say it. Don’t you think that’s why you felt desperate that night? Because that moment with your dad haunts you, and you never want to have a relationship with someone you love like that again … where the love comes too late.”
A tear escaped, and she looked out the window, swiping the drop from her cheek.
I curled my hand around hers. “I love you.”
Her eyes flew back to mine.
“And no matter if you decide to give me a chance or not, know that I will always love you.”
I could see her struggling to keep in the tears, and I squeezed her hand harder.
“Everything okay here?” Flora startled us.
Fuck off, Flora. I glared up at her. “We’re fine.”
Arro scowled at the woman but nodded.
Once she’d left again, Arro bent her head to mine and whispered, “If she comes over one more time, I’m going to tell her to fuck off.”
I barked my laughter since she’d mirrored my thoughts, and the tension between us eased somewhat.
We sipped our coffees and then Arro observed, “You always were so perceptive, Mackennon. It amazes me your self-perception is so skewed.”
“Aye.” I heaved a sigh. “Life’s ironic that way, eh?”
She gave me a compassionate smile, and I experienced that pleasurable burn again.
Arro wasn’t running. She might not have agreed to give me a shot romantically, but she wasn’t running.
There was still a chance for us.