Especially since Emma was already way too attached to him.
But I didn't push Andrew away. In fact, I leaned into him, finding my balance there against the warmth of his chest
. I kissed him desperately, my teeth clacking against his and my fingers twisting in the lapels of his shirt. I never wanted to let him go, but eventually, I had to pull away. I ducked my head down, leaning my forehead against his collarbone, still unable to relinquish my grip on the soft fabric of his shirt.
I started to sob, and Andrew's arms came up around me. “Oh, Lexi,” he murmured into my hair, laying his cheek alongside the top of my head. He sighed heavily. “I don't know how you're ever going to be able to forgive me. I don't know how I'm ever going to be able to forgive myself.”
He kissed my hair and then continued. “I was scared, to be honest. I'm so deeply and helplessly in love with you. I think that maybe I was looking for something to be wrong, just so that I could get out of this. I'm so scared of being in love that I had to find something wrong with you. Renée played on that fear. She knew exactly what she was doing. I just can't believe that I fell into her trap.” He paused. “I've never had a relationship like this before. I've never had a girlfriend who I loved like I love you.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Did Andrew Goldwright really just tell me that he loved me? In the past twenty-four hours, it felt as though my entire world had been shaken like a snow globe. First, he'd accused me of conning him, and now he was telling me that he loved me. I felt lost.
“What can I do to make it up to you?”
I sniffled, already feeling calmer, the more he talked about the reasons behind his fears. “Am I actually your girlfriend?”
“You have been for a while now,” Andrew said. He looked uncomfortable. “I've actually been thinking of you in my head as being my girlfriend. We should have talked about that a long time ago, and the fact that we didn't was inexcusable. Yet another bout of stupidity on my part.”
I frowned at him. “Do you want this?” I asked. “Emma and I, and everything that comes with having a family? If you don't, you have to let me know. If you don't want to commit, you can't keep stringing me along.”
“I want this,” Andrew said. “I'm terrified, but I want this.”
“And you're never going to see Renée again?” I felt stupid once the words left my mouth, but I supposed I had to ask them.
Andrew didn't seem to mind the question, either. “I'm never going to see her again,” he vowed, cupping my cheek in his palm and stroking his thumb across my cheekbone. He cracked half a smile. “At least she, unlike you, will wind up with a criminal record after this. Maybe we should order a copy of it and then hang it on the wall.”
I snorted and then punched him in the arm. “You really think it's going to be that easy to win me back?” I asked.
I expected some other flippant line, but Andrew's gaze turned more serious than I'd ever seen it before. “I'm going to have to spend some time winning back your trust,” he said. “I'm not letting you go, not unless you really want to leave.” He paused. “But I thought maybe tonight, I could start my apologies by making dinner for you.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure you aren't trying to give me reasons to leave?” I teased.
Andrew snorted and hugged me tightly. “I love you,” he said quietly into my ear. “I don't know how many times I'm going to have to say it before you believe me, but I'm going to keep saying it.”
“Good,” I whispered back.
As we hugged, Emma ran back into the room, and seeing us, joined our hug, wrapping her arms around our legs. We giggled and broke apart, and Andrew scooped his daughter up into his arms. “Come here, you!” he said, giving her an Eskimo kiss before he set her back down again. “Want to help me make some spaghetti?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Andrew
Over the course of the week, things started to return to normal. I wasn't working as much as I should have been, and I could tell from the looks that everyone was giving me that it was no secret how distracted I was. But one of the perks of being the CEO of a company was that no one could really pull the boss aside and ask if he shouldn't just stay home for the day or give him a lecture on his responsibilities to the company.
On Friday afternoon, just as I was getting ready to call it a day, I got a call that my secretary immediately transferred over to me. I frowned down at the blinking light, debating not picking it up. After all, I was ready to go home for the day. Surely whoever was calling could wait until Monday for an answer?
But that thought, in itself, made me feel guilty. I hadn't been giving the company my full attention that week, being so focused on how I was going to make things right with Lexi. I should at least pick up this one last call before I called it quits for the week.
“Orinoco Enterprises, this is Andrew Goldwright speaking.” I hoped whoever was on the other end of the line could hear the combination of “I'm not interested in whatever it is you have to say” and “I'm leaving the office, so this had better be quick.”
“Andy, so good to hear from you,” Renée said sweetly, as though I'd been the one to call her, instead of the other way around.
I scowled, debating just hanging up on her. But I knew she would probably just call back if I did so. And if I didn't answer my work phone, she would call my cell phone. I really should have the numbers changed, but there were too many people who contacted me through those numbers for work, and I didn't want to cause chaos and confusion. Still, I should remind Renée that she was breaking the law by calling me, in any case.
“You're violating the terms of the restraining order by calling me.” The judge had signed off on the documents a few days ago, and that meant that she couldn't come near Lexi, Emma, or I physically, but it also meant that she couldn't call us or contact us by email or any other means.
“You've got a restraining order?” Renée shrieked, even though she should have already been aware of this.
I frowned and wondered where that miscommunication might have occurred. She had been served the papers, as far as I knew. But maybe she hadn't opened them.