Tempted by the Wrong Twin (Texas Cattleman's Club: Blackmail 8)

He hauled himself to his feet and scrubbed his hands through his hair, wishing he had all the answers. “Harper, I saw you back there in that room. I won’t be responsible for putting that expression of horror on your face again.”

“I think we need to go back to our original plan. Bringing sexual intimacy into our relationship was a mistake.”

He stepped closer and cradled the side of her face in his palm. “We can make it work, I promise. I just won’t stay the night.”

“Please don’t make this harder than it is.” She’d told him that her trigger was people walking away from her, and at the first test of their relationship, he’d done exactly that. He needed to take a step back, respect her boundaries and give her a chance to feel settled again.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“There’s already so much pressure on this relationship. It can’t be sexual as well.” When he didn’t reply, she added, “Nick?”

“Okay,” he said reluctantly. He might not agree, but if she didn’t want to, then there was no way forward for their physical relationship.

He took her hand and walked her back down the hall to her bedroom. In the doorway, he stopped. He wanted nothing more than to sink into that bed and pull Harper against him, but he couldn’t. He laid a soft kiss on her lips, hoping she understood all that was still unsaid, and turned to go.

“Nick,” she said.

He couldn’t turn back. If he let his guard down for a single second, he’d join her in that bed. So, instead, he turned his head and spoke over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

She was thanking him? “For what?”

“For trusting me enough to share your past with me. I know that must have been hard, and I just want you to know I appreciate it.”

Not sure of his voice, he nodded once and walked down the dark hall to his empty bed.

* * *

Harper opened her eyes the next morning to see Nick coming through the bedroom door holding a tray. She yawned and stretched, giving herself cover for a few moments to study him. The man before her was different from the one she’d sat with last night as he’d poured out his pain. This man had his mask firmly back in place. As someone who wore an invisible suit of armor to protect herself, she had no trouble recognizing his.

A stab of disappointment struck, as if she’d been given a gift that had been taken away again. But at the same time, part of her had to admire the skill and self-discipline it took to hide his pain from the world so well. It hadn’t just been his words last night that had told her about the pain consuming him, it had been the soul-deep anguish in his eyes. Sharing that with her had been a huge act of trust. She wondered if he’d shared that with anyone before. Did Malcolm even know the depths of his torment?

“Morning,” he said, giving her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

She wriggled up in the bed so that she was sitting against the headboard, and he unfolded the legs on the tray and set it over her lap.

“Good morning,” she said. The tray held a plate with two eggs on toast, a glass of juice and a small vase with a purple flower that looked to be from the bush beside the driveway that she’d seen last night. There might have only been a few items on the tray, but they were laid out in a neat and ordered way. She was still getting to know her husband, but this seemed to sum up his personality perfectly—he’d cared enough to cook her food, but kept it basic. He’d been sweet enough to cut a flower for her, then laid it all out with military precision. He was a study in opposites.

As he straightened, he rested his hands low on his hips. “Look, I’m sorry about last night.”

“It wasn’t all bad,” she said, then took a sip of the juice.

He looked at her skeptically. “Yes, it was.”

For him, it would have been beyond awful to talk to her. She got that. And it had been wrenching to see him in so much pain. But the thing was, they had been able to talk about it, and that gave her hope for the future. Now she just needed him to understand how important that process was for them going forward.

“I appreciate that you opened up to me. I’m sure it was hard, but you did it.”

He blew out a breath. “That’s part of what I’m apologizing for. I shouldn’t have dumped all that crap on you. It wasn’t fair. It’s mine to deal with, not yours.”

She reached out and took his hand, and he let her. “We’re in this together, Nick. We can share things that are important.”

Deep grooves appeared in his forehead. “Okay, sure. Why don’t we do something together today? Get to know each other.”

She’d already made plans with friends, but she suddenly realized that she wasn’t single anymore, and that had broader ramifications than she’d expected. Another person had a stake in simple things like her plans for the weekend. As someone who’d always fiercely protected her independence, it felt a little strange.

“I was going to meet up with some friends for lunch today, but if you think we need—”