Fast & Loose by Elizabeth Bevarly (the giving tree read aloud .txt) 📕

He hesitated only a moment before saying, “Maybe that’s because you never tried to find out what type I am.”

“True enough,” she admitted.

He dropped his gaze down to his mug. “And now that you know what type I am?” he asked.

Oh, that was a question Bree really couldn’t let herself answer. So she lifted her mug again, drank deeply of the rich brew, and said, “How do you manage it? Owning a home like this doing the kind of work you do? I barely manage to make ends meet by month’s end. But you have this great place, and all these creature comforts, even though you always seemed like the kind of guy who didn’t need much to be happy.”

As she spoke, he continued to study his coffee, never once looking up at her. When he finally did lift his gaze to hers again, he seemed more tired than he had before. He seemed distant. He seemed disappointed. Nevertheless, he played along.

“I am a guy who doesn’t need a lot to be happy,” he told her. “A roof over my head that doesn’t leak, a steady income that allows me to live above the poverty level, the love of a special woman I know will be by my side forever. That would do it for me.” He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Two out of three ain’t bad, I guess. Unfortunately, it’s that third one I don’t have that I consider most important.”

“Rufus…”

“Look, Bree, I’m not trying to put you on the spot. But the same way you’ve always been honest with me about what you want, I want to be honest with you about what I want. It’s only fair.”

To both of them, she supposed. It couldn’t have been easy for Rufus the last two years, caring for her the way he did and she not reciprocating. Why should he make it easy on her? Especially since, thanks to that little interlude in her kitchen last week, she’d given him some small hope that she returned his feelings. Of course, she did return his feelings. That was the problem. She just couldn’t afford to, that was all.

Instead of pressing the subject, which a lesser man might do, Rufus went back to the original topic. “I’ve worked at one job or another since I was thirteen,” he told her. “First cutting people’s lawns and washing their cars and babysitting. Then, when I turned sixteen, I started working real jobs. Sometimes two if I could swing it. Where my friends in high school graduated and went to college, I went to work.”

“Why didn’t you go to college?” she asked.

“Didn’t want to,” he said matter-of-factly. “I never liked school, except for playing basketball. I knew I’d hate college, too, unless I could go on a basketball scholarship, and that didn’t happen. Work I didn’t mind so much, so I went for that. I’d been saving my money since I was a kid, so I kept on. Like you said, it doesn’t take a lot to make me happy. I didn’t spend that much. Eventually, I had enough to put down on a house with a mortgage that doesn’t run me much more than paying rent would.” He looked back at the house. “It wasn’t this nice when I bought it. I’ve put a lot of work into it.” He smiled when he realized he’d used the word work again. “Different kind of work,” he said, “but still enjoyable.”

“But you could have made a lot more money if you went to college,” she said. “You could’ve gotten a better job with better prospects.”

“Oh, like you?” he asked. But there was nothing bitter or sarcastic in his voice. It was just a very good point.

“Yeah, okay, but still,” she said. “You could’ve majored in something besides English.”

He shrugged again. “I didn’t want to, Bree. People who go to college get all bogged down in getting ahead, and getting promoted, and getting the company car, and getting the corner office…getting, getting, getting. I didn’t want to fall into that lifestyle. I just wanted to be able to work at a job I enjoy, then come home at the end of the day to a house I can call my own and to the woman I love. Maybe add a golden retriever to the mix at some point. And maybe, someday, if the planets are aligned correctly, a coupla kids, too.” He met her gaze levelly. “What more is there than that?”

He already knew the answer to that, but she repeated it, anyway. “There’s taking care of your mom,” she said quietly. “There’s needing to know she won’t wind up in some craphole where they don’t give a damn about her. There’s knowing that after she took care of you for twenty-five years, you have an obligation to take care of her.”

“It doesn’t take a million bucks to do that, Bree.”

“Do some reading on the health care industry, Rufus. It takes even more.”

She couldn’t do this, Bree thought. She couldn’t stand out here on this gorgeous, gentle night with this gorgeous, gentle guy and try to justify not being with him. Because there was no justification for that, not really. And if she gave in to what she wanted to do at the moment, it would just make things harder tomorrow—for both of them.

“Look, thanks for dinner,” she said quickly. “But I have to go.”

“Bree, no.”

“This has been a really nice night, and you’re a good guy—no, a great guy—but I have to go, Rufus.”

He opened his mouth to object again, so she gave in to a lesser impulse. Pushing herself up on tiptoe, she covered his mouth with hers—briefly, intensely, hotly. She skimmed the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip, stole a quick taste of the corner of his mouth, then pulled away.

“Thanks again,” she said breathlessly. “For everything.”

Then she turned and hurried through the back door, through the comfy kitchen and relaxing living