“Fire’s lit,” she whispered, her own boldness as surprising as it was delightful.
Pat’s arms closed around her and tightened. His lips pressed to the side of her neck. “Is that consent?”
“It’s not a no.”
What was she doing? Was this crazy? Three days ago, she was engaged and living with someone else. Was this what it felt like to throw caution to the wind and choose happiness, or was she self-sabotaging? Unsure, she broke contact and went to the stove.
“Julie?”
“Hmm?” She wanted him but didn’t trust herself. Resentment boiled under the surface as she wondered if this was more of Lance’s baggage. How long would she carry these doubts and second-guess the slightest decisions?
“You okay?”
She nodded and carefully turned the bacon.
“Hey.”
Her shoulders tensed as he tucked her hair behind her ear. That was her only shelter at the moment and she wanted to hide behind it.
“Talk to me.”
Placing the fork on the counter, she turned to face him. “I’m scared.”
“Of me?”
“No, of me.” She collected a dish rag from the counter and folded it, only to unfold it and fold it again.
“Do you want to leave?”
“No. I want to be here with you, with the fire and the… I want this.”
“Then what is it?”
“I can’t promise I’ll want it tomorrow.”
Something flashed in his eyes, but he blanked his expression, cutting her off from his usual transparency. “Okay.”
“It’s not because I don’t like you, Pat. I do. But this has been a really long week after a really long confusing year, and I just don’t want to lead you on.”
“I get it.”
She was a horrible person. She shouldn’t involve him in her life when it was so uncertain. But a selfish part of her wanted to see what it might be like with him, even if it was just a glimpse at normal affection. Again, she questioned her decision-making. She trusted him more than she trusted herself right now, and maybe that was the allure.
Pat equaled safety. She hadn’t felt safe in so long. She could finally let her guard down and just be herself. But this woman he revealed, she wasn’t anyone she recognized. She wasn’t timid or fearful. Did that make her dangerous?
Maybe such recklessness wouldn’t necessarily hurt her, but what if it hurt Pat? She didn’t want that to happen. Was her emotional whiplash getting to him? She glanced at him in question and winced at the uncertainty in his eyes. Maybe that was how normal people looked at crazy people.
“You’re upset.” She was trying to be honest, but there seemed no way around disappointing him. Once again, her insides twisted with guilt.
“Not upset, just trying to understand, and the bacon’s burning.” He carefully nudged her out of the way and transferred the strips onto a paper plate with a paper towel on top to absorb the grease.
“You’re calmer than I remember.”
“I guess you learn not to overreact when you work in an ER.”
Good. Normal conversation. “Do you like being a doctor?” She watched him carefully crack the eggs into the pan.
“I do. But I prefer consistency, which is why I’d rather open my own practice. There would still be emergencies, but nothing as exciting as a big-city ER.”
“Is that why you were looking at the bookstore?”
“Yes.” He flipped the eggs.
“I think that could make a nice doctor’s office.”
“You do?” He looked at her like her opinion actually meant something to him.
“Sure. I mean, it’s small, but this is a small town. You could make it really cute with the help of a good carpenter.”
“That’s what I think.”
“Is there a second floor?”
“Yeah, but I’d use that as an apartment for now.”
She smiled, impressed with how scaled back and simple he made it all seem. He was probably one of the most successful people from their graduating class. As a doctor, he could work anywhere. “Why did you come back here?”
His head cocked. “Why wouldn’t I? This is where my family is.”
“But you could have moved anywhere. Didn’t you like the city?”
“I do, but I never wanted that long-term. I have other dreams.”
She stole a piece of bacon and popped it in her mouth as he plated the eggs. “Like what?”
They sat at the table. The coffee had begun to perk and the cabin smelled amazing. “I want the private practice, the house, the yard, the chocolate lab, the picket fence…the wife.”
Who didn’t want all those things? “Well, it looks like you’re almost there.”
“Almost.”
They ate and he asked her about her time in Maryland, but she didn’t have much to share. “I worked for a while for a paralegal, but I wasn’t really qualified for the job, so I left.”
He frowned. “Don’t you have your bachelor’s degree?”
“Yes, but it’s in business administration.”
He looked even more confused. “I thought that was more than enough to be a paralegal. Is Maryland different?”
“Oh, I wasn’t the acting paralegal. I just handled the office administrator stuff.”