Chapter 9

9

Longing, confusion, and betrayal churned within her, each one wrestling for dominance. The memory of Daegan’s touch was seared into her mind. She wanted that intimacy again more than anything. The desire between them was magnetic, as if only the other could fill the void. The wetness in her panties and the pleasant ache between her thighs would not let her forget it.

Daegan had seemed to want her so badly, as if he’d wanted nothing more than to make her his. Baby, he had called her, when she’d only started using his first name. He had even seemed so attuned to her needs. It was as if Daegan had an operating manual for her orgasms that Kinsley didn’t even know existed.

Or was she imagining that?

She had fallen asleep after, but upon waking he hadn’t said a word. There was no “Good morning, baby” that she longed to hear from his lips. No kiss the moment she sat up. There wasn’t even an acknowledgment of what had transpired just hours before, though her body wasn’t going to let her forget. It made her question if he still cared for her at all. Perhaps he had gotten it all out of his system. Kinsley hadn’t, and that physical longing to touch him the whole way to the hotel had joined forces with her heartbreak and left her speechless.

She’d known what she was getting into. She’d said she would deal with the rest after the fact. And now Kinsley was dealing with it, crying into her pillow as the ache in her chest started to outweigh the far more pleasant one between her thighs.

Had she been crazy to hope that maybe this would lead to Daegan as seeing her as more ?

If he had, things would have been different. He would have made it clear; Daegan Westerhouse was a direct man if nothing else. But she was back to being just his personal assistant—where things should have stayed. He hadn’t asked her to wait, or if she wanted to stay with him instead. He had only told her when she needed to meet him for breakfast.

She finally managed to calm her thoughts down enough to sleep, but her alarm woke her only a few hours later. Eyedrops to clear the redness, a cold compress made of a hotel towel and cold water for the puffiness, minimal makeup would make sure nothing smudged if something managed to upset her later. Checking her outfit twice to make sure none of his marks were showing, she went to meet Daegan downstairs for breakfast.

They sat there making polite small talk with no eye contact. Every time his gaze drifted to her, she felt it like a weight. But whenever she dared glance back, he turned away. Was he avoiding her, or was she imagining that, too?

It was a typical case of ignoring the elephant in the room. Kinsley was content with it for the time being; the last thing she wanted was to feel emotional while having to attend an important meeting in their Seattle office. Perhaps Daegan felt the same, trying to focus on work and the upcoming meeting, with plans to talk to her afterward.

Time flew. They were whisked away to the office where Daegan barked orders, praised a few employees, and tore Roger a new asshole. Kinsley took notes, made phone calls, ran a few errands, and did it all without making eye contact with Daegan. Anytime he would speak to her, she would look down, to the side—anywhere but into those brown eyes she longed for. With so much to keep her busy, she was able to maintain a professional demeanor that belied the emotional storm within her.

She met some rather lovely employees, including a few women who couldn’t stop gawking over their CEO. It was easy to gawk— he made it easy. She wished she could make them stop. To lay claim to him and make sure all of them knew he was hers .

Even though he wasn’t.

Yet every time Kinsley would spot a woman trying to flirt, Daegan would quickly dismiss her and turn to do something else. He didn’t joke or smile for them, the way he used to with her. Part of it made her happy; he didn’t flirt with every pretty face that came his way, that had to mean something, didn’t it? But then that part of her sank. Perhaps he only was receptive to the women he saw as a good lay and nothing more.

Was this him? Was he the type of man Cameron and Brienne warned her about?

A heaviness filled in her chest that would not be pushed aside.

Though their stay was short, it was productive. There was no conversation other than business as they rode back to the hotel Friday evening. The elevator trip to their respective rooms was completely silent. Somehow the gentle classical music of the hotel only made it worse.

“We’re planning to get to the airport at nine, so we better just order breakfast in our rooms and use that time to get ready. I’ll see you down in the lobby at eight-thirty.” Daegan still didn’t meet her eyes.

As he looked everywhere but at her, she bit back the urge to ask why he couldn’t just look her in the eye. “Yeah,” was what came out instead. She entered her room without another word, and thought she was being very professional when she shut the door quietly behind her. She wanted to say more. She wanted to slam the door in his face. But a potent cocktail of fear and stubbornness kept Kinsley biting her tongue. What was she expecting? A brief talk about what happened and where things sat now, at the very least. Weren’t they both adults here? But Daegan’s actions made his intentions very clear: strictly business as usual.

Her sleep was better Friday night than the night before. She woke up early Saturday morning feeling refreshed and ready to get back on the jet to see Daegan’s mother.

It hit her.

They were going to see his mother.

Well, he was going to see his mother. She would presumably stay at a hotel with his staff who were traveling with them. At least at the hotel she could relax, gain some distance to sort things through. She could lay in bed, eating take-out, and deal with the heartbreak on her own.

No, not heartbreak. She’d been there before. This was just a bruise—a sting she would shake off.

She’d survived it all, and she’d survive this. Kinsley was nothing if not a master of plastering on a smile when her heart was in pieces. She could pass for being “just fine;” all she had to do was smile and be cheerful until her cheeks fell off. She had decades of practice.

Taking her time to dress and have her breakfast, she met Daegan in the lobby not a minute before. It was all she could do to avoid him as much as possible. Another luxury vehicle drove them to the airport. As they boarded the fine jet, Kinsley felt the sparkle of it wearing off.

Lars was waiting at the top of the steps to see where Kinsley would go. Without missing a beat, she sat in a seat near the window. If Daegan wanted her in his suite, he would have to say it. Lars walked over to her. “May I get you something to drink, miss?”

“Oh, just orange juice if you have some, please.”

“Right away, miss,” Lars said as he retreated to what Kinsley imagined was the galley.

Daegan came up the steps, phone in hand. As he walked past her to his suite, the absence of a glance was deafening. It was as if he wasn’t walking past her, but through her. The lack of a glance—of any acknowledgment—was louder than words.

Kinsley watched the door to the suite close shut. She let out a held breath as she felt it in her chest, even though he’d been perfectly polite about it. What was she expecting? A confession of feelings, some grand gesture? No. She knew better than to hope for any hint of romance after what had happened. But she’d still hoped. And yet, nothing. It was as if everything between them had been nothing but a fleeting moment in the dark.

If he wanted to shut her out, fine. She’d shut herself off, too. She had her own life, her own strength—and she’d make sure he saw just how strong she was. Kinsley wasn’t some weak, heartbroken girl who needed a man to hold her hand. She wasn’t going to beg for his attention or pine for something he wasn’t willing to give. She was stronger than that. Worse things had happened to her, and she would survive this, too.

The smooth leather seat beneath her felt cool, almost sterile, a sharp contrast to the warmth she’d felt in Daegan’s arms. The polished wood gleamed under the cabin lights, reflecting a version of herself she barely recognized—composed on the outside, but fracturing within.

Before take-off, Lars brought her the requested orange juice. She held the cold glass in her hands, letting the chill calm her even as a firestorm brewed within. The tart and sweet juice was a reminder that she could swallow anything and smile right through it. Let him lock himself away. After all, she wasn’t the one hiding.

The flight from Seattle to Montana was short, but every minute of it was thick with unspoken words. Daegan had never felt so confined; the silence between him and Kinsley weighed heavy on something in his chest. When the descent began, he welcomed it, eager to escape the charged atmosphere of the cabin. His aunt’s homestead—where his mother lived—was about an hour from the airport. This meant a car ride that wouldn’t be any more comfortable than the last day and a half had been.

As they walked to the rental lot, he caught Kinsley staring. “You haven’t shaved,” she said, her eyes lingering on his face for a moment longer than necessary. “Forgot your razor, didn’t you?”

Daegan tried to suppress a grin. “No, someone told me the stubble was sexy.” He saw her lips twitch into a smile, and that glimmer of humor felt like a lifeline. “Thought I’d give it a shot.”

The sun was casting long shadows on the pavement, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the otherwise empty lot.

“So we’re renting a car?” Kinsley asked, tossing her oversized suitcase in the trunk with a loud thump.

“We don’t do much business in Montana, so there isn’t a company car available,” he replied, slamming the trunk shut.

“You’ll drop me off at the hotel, then?” she asked, her voice clipped, her eyes guarded.

Though the cool afternoon breeze flowed between them, it felt still.

“Right?” she asked.

Daegan took a deep breath, feeling the words get caught in his throat. He was trying to navigate the waters between them, trying to find the right balance between holding on and letting go. “Actually…why don’t you join me?” he asked.

“Meet your mother and aunt?” she asked in shock, holding his gaze over the roof of the car. “Isn’t that a little personal?”

‘Personal,’ Daegan thought with a laugh, coming from the woman who said she needed me when I had my hand between her thighs.

“A good, home-cooked meal and some fresh air may be what you need—what we both need.” He offered a small smile. “It’s beautiful there—like a postcard. Besides, if my aunt’s parrot starts spilling family secrets, you’ll get a free show,” he joked.

“Like Laurel.”

“Exactly like Laurel.” Daegan stifled a laugh. “So what do you say?”

“And you know how to get there?” Kinsley opened the passenger door, continuing to speak over the top of the car.

“Not a damn clue. That’s what a GPS is for.” He got in and tugged on the seatbelt, fingers tapping on the buckle. Despite the brief conversation, the air still hung heavily between them.

Kinsley checked her hair in the mirror and snapped it shut again as she buckled. “I hope your mother likes me.”

“Of course she will. You’re the—” he cut himself short. The what?

“The lady that her son regrets sleeping with?” Kinsley attempted to finish his thought. This time it wasn’t cute.

“That isn’t it, Kinsley,” Daegan sighed as he typed the address into the GPS. Their battles with relationships may be similar, but certainly not the same.

She raised her voice slightly, “If it isn’t that, then what is it?”

Silence. Daegan wasn’t quite ready for this conversation, despite thinking he was.

“You had regrets and second thoughts about us, didn’t you?” she steamed.

“No, Kinsley.” He paused to look at her. “I know exactly what I wanted. Do you know what that was?”

Kinsley stared, their eyes locking for the first time in what felt like eons. It was not warm and inviting; it was tense. What was once a place of comfort had become a battle neither wanted to be the first to break.

“You, Kinsley. I wanted you .” His voice heightened, thick with emotion. It wasn’t his proudest moment; frustration was boiling inside him. If she was going to bring it up now, he wasn’t going to hold back. “I wanted to love on you, to feel you against me…all night,” his voice cracked as he fumbled for the right words. “But when I came out of the bathroom, you were turned away from me. I felt guilty—like I’d hurt you or betrayed you. It made me realize I didn’t want sex to happen like that, Kinsley. Not when we both had a few drinks, our minds clouded by alcohol. I didn’t know if you sobered up and regretted everything. I couldn’t bear the thought of you waking up feeling like it was a mistake or like I’d taken advantage of you.”

Kinsley didn’t speak, her silence echoing the weight of Daegan’s words.

“That is how it happened, but… But that wasn’t how it should have happened.” His palms grew sweaty, wishing their first time together had happened when they were completely sober, with little room for excuses. “I didn’t want you to think ‘yes’ at the moment and then afterwards realize you were just a little drunk and lonely. I didn’t want you to walk away feeling used. The absolute last thing I want to do is hurt you, Kins. I didn’t want to take advantage of you, or feel like I could have been.” He wasn’t even sure if what he’d said made sense. Typically, he was one to choose his words carefully, but now he felt tongue-tied. It was his emotions talking—not logic. The elephant in the room was suddenly much smaller. His voice softened. “I didn’t want it to be like that, but that’s what happened.”

They sat in silence as he put the car into drive and started toward their destination.

He reached over, setting a hand reassuringly on her thigh. “I don’t regret what happened,” he said, fingers brushing over her cotton leggings.

“You don’t?” He could see her gaze through the corner of his eye.

“No, not at all. I just wish it had happened under different circumstances. I didn’t want us to wake up with regrets in the morning. Seeing you curled up in the blanket like you wanted to be left alone… I thought maybe you were upset. Then when we got up, I didn’t know what to do. I felt guilty. Flings aren’t my thing; never have been.” He felt like he was saying too much, but he didn’t know how to stop now. “I worried you woke up in the morning regretting it, feeling like you’d been taken advantage of. I thought I fucked up.”

He went silent as the GPS announced a turn.

Slowly, smiling hesitantly, Kinsley put her hand on top of his. He was glad then he hadn’t pulled away. “You really were worried about that? Daegan, I really wanted it. Even without the champagne, I would have wanted it.” She intertwined her fingers with his, sending a wave of warmth through him. “It wasn’t the drinks, Daegan,” she reassured him. “I wanted to feel close to you, to share something real.”

He let out a sigh of relief, like a weight had been lifted. It was as if he hadn’t been able to take a breath since that night. The doubts that had plagued him faded, replaced by a feeling he hadn’t let himself feel in years. “Then I guess we know where we both stand.” He gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze. “I still promise you’ll be safe with me.”

He glanced over at her, her face illuminated by the soft light streaming through the car windows. Daegan didn’t know what the future held, and he couldn’t promise her forever. His mind still raced with the practicalities—work, his project, everything that could come between them. But as he felt her hand squeezing his, he knew he wanted to try, as long as Kinsley wanted it too.