Bring the Heat by Margot Radcliffe (13 ebook reader .txt) 📕

because, of course on some level, that was exactly what she’d thought. “I guess I didn’t know that it was so serious for you,” Molly said, considering how to say what she needed to say without screwing up the rest of their vacation. “But this trip was meant to give me time away to clear my head. You’re right that I need to talk to him because I still don’t forgive him for cheating, but I need to hear him say I’m sorry and know that he at least valued what we had together, so I don’t continue to believe that I’m just an insane person who thought she was in a relationship with a good person and misjudged him completely. So I do owe him a conversation, but you have to know that it has nothing to do with what’s going on between us.”

Oliver nodded slowly, eyes still pinning her to the chaise, his expression hurt and irritated. “I know,” he finally said. “We jumped into bed too quickly and I knew I’d get fucked up about it if you hadn’t worked all the shit out with this guy yet, but I couldn’t help it. I just like you a lot, Molly.”

“Hey,” she said, leaning toward him, “I sped last night along, too, and I’m not sorry for it.”

Their eyes locked and all Molly wanted to do was take that look off his face, the one that was regretting what they’d done, because it’d been amazing, the memory etched in her brain and body forever, which meant it could never be a mistake.

“Good,” he said, taking a long breath. “I’m sorry I got all caveman on you.”

Molly leaned back, a smile curving her lips as the tension in her shoulders from their disagreement finally eased. “Yeah, not your usual modus operandi.”

He snorted. “No, it is,” he disagreed. “Trust me, I’ve just been on my best behavior with you.”

Trailing a single finger down his chest, she teased, “I’d have to agree with that.”

Oliver grasped her finger in his fist, stilling her journey down his taut stomach. “I don’t want to argue again, but I was also trying to point out that you haven’t talked about your breakup much at all and how it made you feel. I’m your friend—unload on me. That’s what I’m here for.”

Molly’s first inclination was to clam up. Even that first night on the boat when he’d made her tell him what happened had been difficult. She’d grown up with just a father and worked in a male-dominated profession where smiling too much made her seem unprofessional. It wasn’t easy for her to admit she had emotions, let alone talk about them. More difficult still to try to sort them out in any kind of logical and useful manner. Give her an engine and she could take it apart and put it back together in no time, but asking her how she felt about her relationship, she needed a lifeline.

“I was angry at first, of course, but we were together for a long time and I loved him. Now that I’m over the anger, part of me wants to understand what went wrong from his perspective, but I’m not great at communicating how I feel back. I just clam up and agree with whatever he says.”

“You did nothing wrong,” Oliver assured her. “Whatever lame excuses he gives, relationships are work and he didn’t want to do the work. End of story.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Molly agreed. “And I also want an apology. I know I deserve that.”

“Damn right you do,” he encouraged with one of those charming Oliver smiles. “And by the way, you’re doing a great job of communicating right now.”

“I can do an okay job with you,” she told him, “because we’re friends. And not to put a fine point on it, but you’re making me do it.”

Oliver’s soft chuckle felt like medicine on her jumpy nerves. God, she hated this kind of stuff. Had no idea what good talking her feelings out was supposed to be doing other than making Oliver happy. Which she guessed was as good a reason as any.

Oliver let go of her hand to thread his fingers through hers, their palms resting against each other. A flutter of pleasure rose in her.

“Can I put forth another possible reason for your reluctance to tell him that you’ve moved on?” he asked, his voice gentling as he squeezed her hand in his. She was already addicted to the connection, the feel of his skin against hers. “Maybe last night we discovered something really special together again and you’re already looking for an escape route?”

Her heart thumped in her chest. Hell, that certainly felt like a truth bomb.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But it’s not as if there’s a future for us together, Oliver.”

His gold brows lowered. “No?”

She shook her head, uncertain now. “You still live in New York or on this yacht and my life is in Colorado. I don’t see that changing.” She didn’t add that essentially nothing had changed from when they’d broken up the first time. They lived in different parts of the country, but also on entirely separate planets.

Oliver searched her eyes. “You don’t think I’d make changes for you? That I’d do what I’d need to do to have you in my life?”

She shrugged. He hadn’t before and other than him purchasing this yacht she wasn’t exactly sure what had changed between then and now. They were older, of course, but the facts of their lives were the same.

“By saying that, you’re suggesting that I should make changes, too, but I love my job, Oliver, and I don’t want to quit. And you can’t just be an aerospace engineer anywhere. It’s not exactly a robust field. So if you’re saying you’d change your life around for me, it would mean moving to Colorado. Are you prepared to do that?”

He hit her gaze head-on. “Yes.”

And that was all. No discussion, no request for compromise, no wish to talk about it