Perfect Secret by Molly McLain

Chapter 13

ALANA

It’s been three days since I’ve talked to Holden. Not a single word or text since we parted ways in the hallway Sunday night after making out in the lake like a couple of horny teenagers.

Did I want to take things further with him? Of course, I did.

But did I want to do them the same way I’d done them with Cory all those years ago? I absolutely did not.

Holden may remind me of my ex in a lot of ways, but he’s different, too. We may not know each other well, but he’s already someone I’m never going to forget. When he’s moved on from Mason Creek, I want my memories to be of him and only him.

I’m just not sure how to tell him that. That already this thing between us feels bigger than it was ever supposed to be.

But I have to try.

I have to, because something tells me that if I don’t, I’ll hate myself for it.

So, that’s why I took off of work a little early and that’s why I’m currently setting a thermal bag holding a small pan of lasagna and some garlic bread outside of his door.

I probably should have just invited him over like a big girl, but I haven’t been the only one to go radio silent these past few days. He hasn’t tried to reach out, either. Hasn’t come by for morning coffee or knocked to let me know he’s home in the evening. If it’s because he’s realized I’m too much of a head case, I don’t want to hear it in his voice when he turns me down.

I pad back into my apartment and to my laptop, where I’ve been scouring over my business plan in between cooking. My meeting with Hallie is tomorrow and I don’t want to look like a complete amateur, even if I know she won’t judge me for it.

My phone chirps with a text and my breath hitches in my throat when Holden’s name appears on the screen.

Heading upstairs. Can we talk?

Speak of the devil. My thumbs hover above the keyboard, but I can’t bring myself to respond. I just left food outside of his door like some sappy girl trying to win her man back.

That isn’t me.

Or at least, it hasn’t been me in such a long time and—

Did you cook for me?

Um…

Knock knock.

Oh god.

I jump up from the couch and rush to my room to run a brush through my hair and make sure I don’t look like hell, because, yep, I’ve definitely become that girl.

“Hey,” I say when I finally open the door to the very handsome, very sexy cowboy leaning against the wall with my thermal bag hanging from his fingers.

“You made me lasagna,” he says easily, his dark gaze locking on mine.

“Uh, yeah. I figured you must be tired of grabbing dinner out by now.”

His lips hitch to one side. “Want to share it with me?”

That hadn’t been my plan, but… “Sure.” I step aside and wave him in.

“It smells amazing,” he says as he sets the bag on the table and unzips. “Garlic bread, too? Damn.”

Heat fills my cheeks as I grab two plates from the cupboard and utensils from the drawer. “I know you like Italian, so I figured it was a safe bet.”

“Darlin’, anything you cook for me is a safe bet.”

When I turn back around, he’s right there, leaning down to peck my cheek.

“Thank you,” he says softly, one hand lifting to my hip.

“It’s not a big deal.” Even if it is the first time I’ve ever cooked for a man.

“It is when I’ve spent the past few days thinking you might never talk to me again.”

“Holden—”

“Look, I know this isn’t supposed to be real, but fuck if it doesn’t feel like it’s exactly that.” His eyes dart back and forth between mine. “I know I’m not the kind of guy you want—”

“You’re exactly what I want.” The confession tumbles past my lips before I can stop it, and the relief on his face makes my chest ache.

“Darlin’…” He takes the plates and forks from me and sets them on the counter, before wrapping me up in his big arms. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” I say against his stubbled jaw when he buries his face in my neck. “And that scares the crap out of me.”

He presses his nose to the soft spot behind my ear and inhales. “I know, babe.”

“I’m just… I’m afraid of liking you too much, you know? You’ll be leaving soon and I haven’t done this in so long and—”

“Shh.” He pulls back and cups my face in his big, calloused hands. “It scares me, too, but I’m already invested, darlin’. I’m already so fucking wrapped up in you that it’s hard to think about anything else.”

“Really?” I swallow hard and wet my lips as he nods.

“Yeah. But I don’t want to rush you into something you’re not ready for, either.” His thumbs stroke over my cheeks. “We can do this however you want to do it as long as I don’t have to go another three days without talking to you.”

“A week ago, you didn’t even know me.”

“Which is total bullshit. So glad I remedied that.”

I smile and toe up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Me, too.”

He groans at the connection but forces himself to step back and not take it further. “We’d better eat, darlin’.”

So, we do. For the next hour, we eat and talk, and his company is a fast reminder that I don’t want to go back to living as a loner again. Chatting with customers in the store is nice, but sitting down and having a conversation with someone is so much better. Then again, there’s a good chance I feel this way because it’s Holden I’m conversing with.

“So, do you think Old Man Morton will hold off putting the store up for sale until you figure out your finances?” Holden asks as he stretches his legs out on the floor near the coffee table where we ate.

“Probably not. He’s already been waiting a while.”

“Surely a little longer isn’t going to hurt him.”

“He’s going to be seventy-seven in a few months. And he doesn’t have any family, aside from a nephew in Idaho. It’s not like there will be anyone to step in and take care of things if something happens to him.”

“Shit, that sucks.” Holden tips back a hefty gulp of water. “Do you have any idea how much the place is worth?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Unfortunately?”

“It’s about ten times my annual salary.”

He nods, a thoughtful look on his face. “That’s actually not a horrible ratio.”

“When you have little to nothing for a down payment, it’s terrifying.”

“I’m sure Hallie will talk you through all of the options. And I bet Marty would help you out with the down payment, too. Maybe advance it to you as part of the selling price. People do it all the time when they’re buying a house.”

I’d thought of that, too, but wanted to see what Hallie had to say before I approached the subject with Marty.

“You said you changed majors to business, right? What was your major before that?”

“Public relations.”

His eyebrows rise. “You wanted to be a publicist?”

I nod. “Yep. And as much as I hated wasting so many credits, it worked out for the best. I don’t think I would have been happy in PR.”

“No? I think you would’ve rocked it. No way you’d take any shit from the press when they do your clients wrong.”

Providing my clients weren’t lying, cheating assholes like Cory turned out to be.

“Would have loved to have you on my side with the assault accusations, but instead…” His brow creases as he shakes his head. “Guess there’s no point in wishful thinking. It is what it is.”

“I’m sorry.” I can tell it eats at him. Every now and again, he gets this distant look in his eye and I know he’s thinking about it. “So, you said your boss wanted you to take some time away. Does he have a set date in mind for your return or are you playing it by ear?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Not sure. Haven’t talked to him in a few days.”

“You will go back, though, right?”

His gaze shifts to his jeans where he picks at something nonexistent. “I don’t know. I’m not sure if I can keep working for people who don’t want to support me.”

His disappointment is palpable. But it runs deeper than that. He’s hurt, too. His boss—this ranch he worked for—it meant something to him and it’s killing him, knowing he didn’t mean as much to them.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” He gets to his feet, the crease in his brow deep as he looks everywhere but at me. “I’ll come back and help you clean up when I’m done,” he mutters, taking his plate and empty water bottle to the kitchen.

“That’s okay. I’ve got it.” I follow after, hating the pain radiating off of him. I reach out to touch his arm, but he moves away before my fingers connect. I’m not sure it was intentional, but I’m not confident it wasn’t either.

“Thanks, Alana. For dinner and for…” He shoves his hands into his pockets restlessly. “For everything, I guess.”

Um, why does it sound like he’s pushing me away when an hour earlier he was telling me he wanted to keep doing whatever it is we’re doing?

“You’re welcome.” My voice cracks and I bite my lip as he heads for the door, his only goodbye a quick dip of his chin before he ducks out.

The door latches shut behind him and suddenly I wonder if there’s more to his story than he’s said. If maybe he was trying to tell me that the other day before we left for my parents’.

Maybe he’d needed to talk, but I shut him down because I’d been so concerned that his truth wouldn’t be something I’d want to hear.

God, I’m selfish.

This man has done nothing but do what he can to help me since he’s come to town and I wouldn’t even hear him out when he tried to talk to me. No wonder he doesn’t want to say more now.

I make quick work of cleaning up the kitchen and escape to my bedroom before I even hear the shower turn on.

I already know what I have to do. What I want to do. I just need to bide my time and leave him alone with his thoughts for a bit.

I open my laptop, clicking away from the article I’d been reading for one of my classes, and bring up Google instead.

The urge to do as I told him I wouldn’t—to look him up and find out more—is strong. But I can’t make myself enter his name. I can’t break his trust like that. If he wants me to know, then he should be the one to tell me. I just need to give him the chance.

I sit on the bed, reading, but not comprehending, the article for almost an hour before I can’t take it anymore. I can’t let him stew over this and let his emotions fester any longer.

I head to the kitchen and the scent of his body wash hits me like a comforting blanket, making me close my eyes for a moment and sigh beneath its warmth.

The shower isn’t running and there’s silence on the other side of the bathroom door, so I push inside to freshen up before I go to his door for the second time today.

My gasp registers in my ears before my brain fully acknowledges that, despite the silence, my bathroom is not unoccupied.

In fact, it’s very occupied. By a very naked, very hard Holden.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” I slap a hand over my eyes, but it’s pointless. The image of his lean, muscled body is already etched in my mind. His broad shoulders, his defined chest, the trail of light brown hair from his belly button all the way down to his insanely gorgeous cock. “It was so quiet, I assumed you were finished.”

He doesn’t say a word and from what I can tell, doesn’t move either. He’s quiet for so long that I peek through my fingers, wondering if maybe I’d imagined him. But nope. NOPE.

Not only is he still very real, but he’s staring at me, those dark, stormy eyes narrowed as he wraps a hand around his erection and, sweet mother, strokes himself.

My hand falls away from my face as my mouth slacks open and I stare.

Stareat that big hand slowly and torturously sliding up and down his length.

“Holden…” I exhale his name, my voice barely a whisper as my heart begins to race and the room begins to spin, yet I. Can’t. Look. Away.

He continues to touch himself, his chin lowering while the storm in his eyes turns predatory. Dangerous even, and it sends goose bumps across my skin.

If he were another man, I might be afraid.

Hell, if he were another man, I would’ve turned and fled immediately.

But he isn’t. And I’m not. And I won’t.

Because something tells me he needs me as much as I need him.