Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
That’s all bad enough, but is there something more?
The old Tessa would ask him. The old Tessa would want to help him.
This Tessa?
This Tessa can’t handle anything more in her head right now. No more torment. Even if it’s someone else’s. I just can’t take it.
And I hate how selfish that sounds in my own head because part of me wants to help him. Part of me is drawn to him in a way that’s new to me.
“So I suppose our dinner at the Union Oyster House is canceled now,” I finally say.
He wipes his lips with his napkin. “Why would it be canceled?”
“You’re obviously upset with me.”
“Why would I be upset with you?”
“Because I…” I shake my head. “Never mind, I guess.”
“Tessa,” he says, his tone serious, “I know you feel like you’ve been marked with what happened to you. I get that. You probably hate the fact that I know about it. But I’m glad I do because it helps me understand you. I’m not one to use kid gloves. You don’t become a billionaire doing things that way. I can’t just turn off my personality.” He pauses a moment and looks me right in my eyes. “What I can do is be as understanding as possible about your situation. I can keep a safe distance from you. I can help you feel safe and secure. Why do you think I asked to see you home last night?”
I twirl a lock of my hair. “I understand. I get it.”
“I want you to learn to trust me.” He places a hand on his chest, as if pledging allegiance. “You have nothing to fear from me, Tessa. But I understand why you feel that way. I’m a man, and a man did you harm.”
I simply nod.
“Now that I’ve seen you home, you’ve driven in my car with my driver, I’ve taken you up to your apartment, helped you with your dog… Now that you know that I’m not a threat, please trust me.” He reaches across the table. “Depend on me. I can help you get through this.”
I don’t take his outstretched hand. “What? You some kind of psychoanalyst now?”
He wants to roll his eyes. I can tell by the look on his face, but he resists. Good for him.
“No,” he says. “I didn’t mean I can help you get through what happened to you. What I meant was I can help you get through the bachelor and bachelorette parties and the wedding.”
Okay. Now I feel like the scum on my shoe. He’s trying to be nice, and I’m throwing it back in his face.
“I apologize,” I say, and I’m surprised at how much I truly mean it.
“No apologies necessary.”
“Damn it. Don’t say that. I was being a bitch. Let me own it.”
He chuckles a bit. “All right. You own it.”
“And honestly, I appreciate the help with the weekend.” My fingers twitch. I actually want to grab his hand that’s still reaching toward me. But I don’t. “Skye’s an only child, and she always told me I’d be her maid of honor. I was so psyched when she asked me back in college. I always wanted to help give her the wedding of her dreams. But now… It seems like such a heavy burden on my back.”
“I know it does. But we have to be thinking about Braden and Skye now.”
“You think I’m not?”
“That’s not what I said.” He sighs, takes a drink of his water. “Clearly I’m really bad at this.”
“Well, you’re not a psychoanalyst.” I give him a smile, and to my surprise, it’s not forced.
“No, I’m far from that. But Skye is your best friend, and I know you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t do everything within your power to give her the bachelorette party and wedding of her dreams.”
He’s right on point about that. The fact that it’s been so difficult for me has added guilt to the already ridiculous load of crap in my head.
“Now eat,” he says.
I look down at my untouched burger. His Reuben is already half gone.
I pick it up, take a bite, and grease runs down my chin.
Normally on a date, I’d be completely embarrassed to have grease running down my chin.
But I don’t embarrass so easily anymore. I put the burger down, pick up my napkin, and wipe my chin as I chew and swallow.
Surprisingly good.
“So?” Ben asks.
“Good,” I say.
“Just good?”
I sigh. “Just good is about all I can handle these days. It’s actually an improvement.”
He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Demons? If he has demons haunting him, I certainly can’t tell from looking at him.
I take another bite of my burger. The meat is juicy and full-bodied without the smokiness and fattiness of bacon that I’m used to. The tomato, lettuce, and onion add freshness and crispness, something else I’ve missed. Maybe it’s time to eat real food again. I wash it down with a sip of water and wipe my chin once more. Then I grab the ketchup bottle from the side of the table, remove the top bun, and squirt some onto the burger.