Can't Get Enough (Skyland, #3)(83)

“I’d like for us to take care of each other. If we’re together, we’re together. We help each other. We have each other’s backs. Don’t let the possibility that Zere wouldn’t approve keep us from even trying.”

“But I—”

“You don’t want a man holding your happiness hostage, putting his needs over yours, but isn’t that what Zere would be doing if she tried to stop you from seeing me if that’s what you want?”

He stands, reaches for me, cups my face; the look he gives me somehow searching and knowing at the same time.

“Is that what you want, Hen? Am I what you want? Because I want you and the only thing that will stop me from having you… is you. Not Zere or anyone else.”

“You said you’re here to negotiate our future.” I struggle to swallow whatever is rising in my throat. I suspect it might be hope. “What are you offering and what do you need? Where’s your list of demands?”

“I don’t have a list. I have one thing.”

“One thing?” I frown. “What is it?”

“Let’s be good to each other.”

“That’s it?” I ask, incredulity stretching my expression.

“That’s everything because that means I’m good to you and you’re good to me. Being good to you means wanting what’s best for you. If there is an upper hand, baby, I don’t want it. I know I’m asking you to take a big risk, but all I can do is promise that I’ll never try to hurt you and I’ll do everything to protect you. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t regret choosing me and I’ll protect your dreams as fiercely as I chase my own.”

He says it like a vow, not like for a wedding, but sincerely. Like he means it. Like he understands what’s at stake. No man in the last two decades has tempted me to do this. Not that I haven’t dated and even had a few committed relationships over the years, but I always walked away before it felt like this. Hell, it’s never felt like this.

I revisit that rare loneliness at game night. The sense of everyone paired off and belonging somewhere and to someone. Am I fine on my own? I really am. I mostly always have been.

But would I like to share this amazing life I’ve created for myself with someone else? Someone truly worthy of my trust?

Damn right I would.

I’ve always known there is power in making your own way, but maybe when you find the right person, there is joy in sharing it. This man is right.

“Okay.”

After so much wrestling and denying and running, my word is an easy capitulation. It’s hard-won, though, this realization that I don’t want to defer my chance at joy for ambition, that my independence doesn’t have to mean isolation.

“Okay?” Surprise streaks across his face. “Did you say okay?”

“After all that, I agree and you don’t believe me?” I laugh and sit back down on the couch, tugging him to sit beside me.

“I believe you, but what made you change your mind? Or rather what made you choose me?”

“I’ve been wary of commitment because I’ve always seen women put their partners’ desires and goals before their own.” I shrug. “I even saw it with my own parents in some ways. I saw it with friends from college who had ambitions, but lost sight of that when they married. They compromised once they had a husband and a family.”

“Is that why you don’t want kids?”

“No, I don’t want kids because I don’t want kids.” I huff a laugh. “Amazing how no one ever believes it’s as simple as that. The closest thing I’ll come to a maternal instinct is maybe a dog someday.”

“That would be a lucky dog.” He smiles. “You should do what feels right to you. I’m just glad that this—us—feels right to you.”

“It’s starting to.” I sigh. “Maybe I was so determined not to miss out on the opportunity of a career goal, that I was willing to compromise a personal one.”

He takes my hand and pulls me to straddle his lap, one leg on either side of his. I rest my elbows on his solid chest and smile down at him.

“I feel like this conversation is about to get a lot less productive.” I chuckle, caressing his nape.

“Focus.” He grins up at me, but places both hands on my ass. “And what is that personal goal?”

The humor dims and I settle onto his lap, giving his question serious consideration.

“I haven’t been in a relationship in a really long time,” I say, which doesn’t exactly answer his question yet. “And I think I’ve been avoiding it to protect my dreams. I’ve never wanted to look back on my life and not have accomplished the things I wanted to do because I had to compromise for someone else’s sake. Maybe that sounds selfish—”

“Only because you’re a woman. Men do it all the time and we don’t think twice about it. Our wives stay home, keep our kids, hold down the house, and we’re not considered selfish. It’s expected.”

“Yes, and I expect something different from and for myself. I know the kind of woman I want to be and the kind of life I want and I’m not willing to forfeit it to have a man. His happiness for my misery is not an even trade.”

“I agree.”