"What?"
"Was that the speech?" I pulled away from him and stood.
"No?"
"Is that a question or an answer?"
"Um," he scratched his head and looked helplessly around the room, "I thought you liked me."
"Oh, dear Lord." I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Of course, I like you. Of course, I believe in second chances, and I accept your apology for partially getting us caught in this fiasco. But Jace," I fought to keep my voice even, "girls don't work that way."
"What do you mean?"
"You can't just give us the words and expect a pat on the ass and a cookie."
"How about just a pat on the ass." He smirked.
"Be serious!" I almost stomped my foot. Good one. "You expect me to fall all over myself because you said sorry? You expect sex because you want a second chance, yet you haven't even told me why you want one. You said you were walking away in a few days. Is that still true?"
Jace stood and reached for me, his hands digging into my shoulders as he pulled me into his embrace. "That depends on you."
"What? So we play at being madly in love, and if it ends up being true, you don't walk away? But if things don't work out, then what? Then I'm left with a broken heart. Don't you see? The problem isn't the second chance. The problem is you want to have your cake and eat it too. You want to test the waters because you want safe. And I'm sick and tired of safe."
Jace shoved his hands in his pockets, swaying on his feet as if the world had just dropped onto his shoulders. "What do you want?"
"Danger," I snapped. "Spice. Crazy." My lips trembled. "I want crazy. I-can't-get-you-out-of–my-head lust. I want Romeo-and-Juliet-type of love. I want Mr. Darcy to ride his damn horse into my life. Words aren't enough. I need actions too. And I think I deserve it."
Jace was oddly silent during my rant. And then his face broke out into a giant grin.
"Stop smiling." I was about two seconds away from choking the life from his body. Was he making fun of me?
"Done."
"Done?" My eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean done? You're going to suddenly Thor yourself all over the place and get romantic?"
He shrugged.
"Find a white horse and sword?"
He shrugged again.
"Stop shrugging!" This time I did stomp my foot. Yes. I was a thirty-year-old foot-stomper, so sue me. We all have our moments.
"Let's go." He grabbed my hand.
I stood my ground.
So he threw me over his shoulder and marched out the little hut door. And I hated to admit I was grinning like a fool the entire way.
Chapter Twenty-nine
"Do you think that Mr. Brevik felt outside pressure to romance the young girl?"
"We
ll, of course he did! Leaving that man to his own devices is like giving a child a quad-shot mocha. They run into walls and scream at the top of their lungs."
"So in your mind, Mr. Brevik is a child?"