them.
She was running scared. Well, he was scared too—more than he’d ever been in his life. Not even when he’d wondered how the hell he was going to care for his kid siblings had he been this scared. But he was wrong to walk away from the fight.
…
A pain pierced between Libby’s ribs like someone had stabbed her with a knife. But it wasn’t just the pain that bothered her, it was the poison of fear. It worsened with every step she took—so she stopped taking steps. She stood with both hands gripping the railing and watched the rowers on the river. She could hear the calls from the coxes, could see the effort the men and women put into each pull of the oars. Throngs of people in shorts and pretty floral dresses passed her on the bridge, ice creams in hand. She had no idea how long she stood there, in the middle of the bridge that overlooked the club, unable to walk to either end.
“Answer me something. That guy, your ex who asked you to marry him. Did you love him?”
She jerked round so quick it hurt. Jack. Jack back and looking fierce and proud and determined and so very hot.
“Is the reason you said no because you really loved him and couldn’t cope with the idea of losing him?”
Libby’s eyes filled. “If I’d really loved him, I could never have said no. I could never have walked away.”
He reached for the railing, gripping it hard as he looked at the muddy water churning beneath the bridge.
“I’m scared, Jack,” she said quickly. “But I can’t walk away from here.” From you .
“You’re a very strong person,” he answered. “You have circus skills.”
She shook her head. “But you have dealt with enough,” she said vehemently. “What if my heart breaks in middle age like Dad’s did? Or what if I have a child and he or she has Mum’s condition? That’s not fair on anyone.”
“I know how cruel fate can be,” he answered. “And I know that you have to fight on. I know that you have to find happiness in the little things. Take pleasure in the lovely every day you have it.” His fingers curled tighter until his knuckles were as white as hers. “Don’t waste a day, Libby. Don’t waste a single day.”
She let go of the bridge. “Jack—”
“I know loss,” he interrupted in a low voice. “I know what it is to survive and to just survive. And that’s not enough. Not for you. And it’s not enough for me either. These last few days I’ve had more fun than I’ve had in years. And I don’t mean in bed. I’ve been working so hard for so long, and you’ve given me balance. It comes from relationships Libby—you can’t hide from them. You’ve got to take them on, put your head down and charge. You heal my heart. Isn’t that making the kind of difference you wanted? Because who knows how long any of us have? We don’t. That’s why I’m not wasting any more minutes away from you.”
Somehow she’d moved. He’d been speaking so softly, compelling her closer. And now she was near enough to feel his inviting heat. She gazed into his eyes and the brave promise in them. Finally he lifted a hand and touched her hair—so gently.
“I found out something in my Google snooping you know,” he breathed even more quietly.
“What’s that?”
“That Libby is short for Liberty.”
“Oh,” she groaned. She hated her full name.
But he smiled, a half-laugh rumbling, his expression warm and kind and willing her to take him on. “Liberty. Set your heart free. Love me.”
It was knocking in her chest right now, every thump hurting. It didn’t want to be constrained. But if she gave it to him, he’d capture it forever—and wouldn’t that be even more of a risk? For both of them?
“Can you handle this?” he whispered.
It was hard to breathe, hard to think. She could only feel. But now pleasure and excitement and anticipation pummeled her fear into submission because he was smiling at her and offering so much with his arms spread wide. She wanted —and she
She was running scared. Well, he was scared too—more than he’d ever been in his life. Not even when he’d wondered how the hell he was going to care for his kid siblings had he been this scared. But he was wrong to walk away from the fight.
…
A pain pierced between Libby’s ribs like someone had stabbed her with a knife. But it wasn’t just the pain that bothered her, it was the poison of fear. It worsened with every step she took—so she stopped taking steps. She stood with both hands gripping the railing and watched the rowers on the river. She could hear the calls from the coxes, could see the effort the men and women put into each pull of the oars. Throngs of people in shorts and pretty floral dresses passed her on the bridge, ice creams in hand. She had no idea how long she stood there, in the middle of the bridge that overlooked the club, unable to walk to either end.
“Answer me something. That guy, your ex who asked you to marry him. Did you love him?”
She jerked round so quick it hurt. Jack. Jack back and looking fierce and proud and determined and so very hot.
“Is the reason you said no because you really loved him and couldn’t cope with the idea of losing him?”
Libby’s eyes filled. “If I’d really loved him, I could never have said no. I could never have walked away.”
He reached for the railing, gripping it hard as he looked at the muddy water churning beneath the bridge.
“I’m scared, Jack,” she said quickly. “But I can’t walk away from here.” From you .
“You’re a very strong person,” he answered. “You have circus skills.”
She shook her head. “But you have dealt with enough,” she said vehemently. “What if my heart breaks in middle age like Dad’s did? Or what if I have a child and he or she has Mum’s condition? That’s not fair on anyone.”
“I know how cruel fate can be,” he answered. “And I know that you have to fight on. I know that you have to find happiness in the little things. Take pleasure in the lovely every day you have it.” His fingers curled tighter until his knuckles were as white as hers. “Don’t waste a day, Libby. Don’t waste a single day.”
She let go of the bridge. “Jack—”
“I know loss,” he interrupted in a low voice. “I know what it is to survive and to just survive. And that’s not enough. Not for you. And it’s not enough for me either. These last few days I’ve had more fun than I’ve had in years. And I don’t mean in bed. I’ve been working so hard for so long, and you’ve given me balance. It comes from relationships Libby—you can’t hide from them. You’ve got to take them on, put your head down and charge. You heal my heart. Isn’t that making the kind of difference you wanted? Because who knows how long any of us have? We don’t. That’s why I’m not wasting any more minutes away from you.”
Somehow she’d moved. He’d been speaking so softly, compelling her closer. And now she was near enough to feel his inviting heat. She gazed into his eyes and the brave promise in them. Finally he lifted a hand and touched her hair—so gently.
“I found out something in my Google snooping you know,” he breathed even more quietly.
“What’s that?”
“That Libby is short for Liberty.”
“Oh,” she groaned. She hated her full name.
But he smiled, a half-laugh rumbling, his expression warm and kind and willing her to take him on. “Liberty. Set your heart free. Love me.”
It was knocking in her chest right now, every thump hurting. It didn’t want to be constrained. But if she gave it to him, he’d capture it forever—and wouldn’t that be even more of a risk? For both of them?
“Can you handle this?” he whispered.
It was hard to breathe, hard to think. She could only feel. But now pleasure and excitement and anticipation pummeled her fear into submission because he was smiling at her and offering so much with his arms spread wide. She wanted —and she
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