24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

Mia

I can watch him work all day long. When he is in the barn, he is in his element. He sweat through his shirt, so he got rid of it. Now he’s in my favorite outfit. Jeans and his work boots, and nothing else.

I’m sitting on top of a large wooden work bench as I watch.

“You know how they make those calendars with like firefighters with no shirts on to raise money?” I say as I swing my legs up and down.

“Yeah, I think I know what you’re talking about,” he replies, not looking away from his project.

The muscles in his arms flex as he measures something with a ruler and marks it with a pencil behind his ear.

“I think I want one of those but of pictures with you working in here. No shirt. I’d like to hang that in my office.”

A large smirk spreads across his beautiful face as he uses the pencil and makes a mark on the wood. “Is that what you’re thinking about over there while I work on this table?”

“I think about your body a lot.”

He looks up at me for a second and winks. That’s all it takes to make my heart explode in my chest. I smile like a schoolgirl who’s crush just acknowledged her for the first time.

I hear him chuckle and find his eyes on me. “Don’t be embarrassed. I think about your body a lot too, babe. In fact, I think I’d like a similar calendar with you in the office wearing nothing but a bra and panties.”

“Why does it sound pervy when a guy asks for that?”

He shakes his head and laughs then gets back to work. I take the time to study him. The way he licks his bottom lip when he’s concentrating.

His confession to me the other night has been weighing on me ever since. I can’t believe he was engaged. Everything about him makes so much more sense. Between his friend selling him out for a chance to look cool in front of a girl when they were twelve to a fiancée leaving him for a man with more money, no wonder he has some trust issues.

It all seems to come back to how much money he has. He’s been trained to believe his worth as a man is dependent on the amount of money he makes.

It breaks my heart.

“So, I was thinking,” I say as my voice wavers. “Ever since we talked about your ex.”

He doesn’t look up at me, but I see the muscles in his jaw tense. That should be my warning not to say anything, but I keep going. “Between the story you told me with your first crush and the reasons your fiancée left. I wonder if maybe that contributed to some of your feelings about relationships.”

Okay, there may have been a more eloquent way to say that.

A bitter laugh escapes him. “Nice observation.”

Ouch. The hint of sarcasm hurts, but I keep going. Seriously, I don’t know what my problem is. I just want him to find peace and I hate that those two experiences define love for him.

“I know, but seriously. I hate that you have this impression that all relationships will be like that. There are many women out there that don’t need money to be happy. They would love you just for who you are.”

He stops working for a second, eyes trained on his work. Then bends down to get eye level with the wood before making a cut. I guess he isn’t going to respond. That’s fine, but I already started the conversation. I can’t just leave it.

“I just hate to see you missing out on life, or love, because you might be scared to…”

His hand comes in contact with the wood, creating a loud boom that echoes in the barn. “Why are you bringing this up? I never asked for your opinion,” he screams, eyes dark with anger.

My breath catches in my throat. I try to swallow back my fear. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to help you.”

“Help me? I never asked for help. You know what I think,” he says while he leans down on the wood. “I think you’re trying to help yourself. You think if you fix me, maybe you have a shot with me. I never promised anything to you, Mia. I was honest with what this was from the beginning.”

There it is. The words I’ve been dreading since the moment I knew I was falling for him. This is all just sex to him. Tears fill my eyes making my vision blurry. It’s not worth the effort of trying to blink them away, they already start to run down my cheeks.

I try to open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. There’s nothing for me to say. He’s right. He was honest from the beginning, and here I am doing what every woman probably does to him. Trying to fix him, wanting him to change so they can be together.

I feel so stupid.

I hop off of the work area and wipe my eyes before I race for the door.

“Mia, wait,” I hear his soft voice. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t stick around to hear him out. I can’t. My heart feels like someone just sucker punched my chest. This all too familiar feeling that hits. One where I realize I’m more into the guy than he is into me. The story of my damn life.

I take off for the house into a slow jog as tears continue to spill.

“Mia,” his voice says from right behind me. Then I feel his warm hand on my elbow. I stop and turn around. He’s breathing heavily and has a pained expression on his face. “I’m sorry…I just…” He runs a hand through his hair and looks up at the sky. “Fuck.”

His eyes move back to mine. “Look, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

I wrap my arms around myself and look away. “It’s fine. You’re right. I stuck my nose in your business. You were upfront from the beginning.”

I try to step away, but he grabs my hand. “I need you to know. You’re not like any other woman I’ve been with. I have feelings for you. I care about you.”

I laugh sharply. “Yeah, I feel like I’ve heard that one before. I get lots of I care about you’s in life. I’m easy to care about. Not easy to love apparently.”

I pull my hand out of his and run to the house with my all too familiar broken heart.