“To Mrs. Smith, shop owner. Yes. You are. To me, Elsie … you’re my sex toy.” That felt victorious.
That look on his face. After years of watching men put women in their place—in Epperly that meant barefoot, pregnant, and rubbing a pot roast—it felt slightly gratifying to be the one doing the objectifying.
I expected the same grin as the first time he heard me call him a sex toy. No such luck.
“Well …” He glanced toward the kitchen, but not as if anything in that direction had his focus—more like he just didn’t want to look at me. “I’m truly sorry for Mrs. Smith. My intention was never to run anyone out of business. As for Elsie, I’m happy I can scratch her itch and entertain her needs.” He sounded anything but happy.
That victorious gratification began to burn out like a fire without oxygen. “It’s what you wanted too. Right?”
He grunted a laugh and faked the worst smile ever as he nodded slowly, bringing his attention back to me. “For you to scratch an itch?”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
Four kids and twenty-two years of marriage made me a good reader of people. Except Kael. I couldn’t read him. Or maybe I could, but I was too afraid to see something that either wasn’t really there … or worse … that was there.
“Sure.”
Terrible answer. I hated sure. It meant anything but sure. The only word more aggravating than “sure” was “whatever.” Two of the most dismissive words in the English language. I was at a loss for words, but I refused to fill the space or say something as awful as “sure” or “whatever” just to appease the person in front of me.
“Don’t say that.”
His lower teeth scraped his upper lip a few times. “Say what?”
“Sure. Don’t say ‘sure' and don’t say ‘whatever.’ Say nothing or say everything. I can’t handle vagueness. I can’t handle you communicating … or lack thereof … like my husband. Don’t fill space with but-uh. Don’t say ‘you know’ because you’re too lazy or impatient to finish your thoughts. I don’t know.”
He glanced at his watch. “I’m going to go with saying nothing then because I don’t have time to say everything. And if I’m being honest, I don’t know what everything is right now. So if you don’t like vague, then it has to be nothing. And I hope I’ve completed my sentences well enough so you do know what I mean.”
“You can’t be mad because I’m going out of business. I’m sorry. That’s just not allowed. So if I’ve offended some delicate part of your ego because I’ve managed to separate what you’ve done to me professionally from what you’ve done to me personally, then maybe you need to start practicing what you preach a little better.”
“What I preach?” Kael rested his hands on his hips and leaned forward a few inches. “What does that mean?”
“It means … you can’t give me that look like you’re not okay with being someone’s sex toy when you don’t want anything more from a relationship than sex.”
“I never said that.”
“You did!” My voice boomed, eliciting a quick glance from his employee in the kitchen.
“No. I didn’t.”
“You don’t believe in monogamy.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I never said that.”
“You totally said that.”
“I said I wasn’t sure if humans are meant to mate for life.”
“Same thing.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Not the same thing. I never said humans can’t be monogamous or that some don’t have a natural desire to be monogamous. But monogamy doesn’t mean mating for life. It simply means one partner at a time—for however long. And maybe that’s eternity, but that should be a choice not a contract.”
My lips parted in preparation of saying something, but that something never came.
“I have to open my store.”
When I didn’t move, not one blink, he reached forward and hooked my index finger with his. It made that malfunctioning organ behind my ribs ache. “I don’t expect anything, and I don’t think you do either. But I also don’t want to be with anyone else right now. So call it monogamy or just good old infatuation with one person, but that’s where I’m at right now.”
I stared at our hooked fingers. “For how long? How long will you only want to be with me?”
“How should I know?”
Because my heart likes to know these things before making an investment.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Expectations are a prelude to failure.” He released my finger.
My gaze lifted to meet his. “What are we without expectations? Lost?”
“Free.”“How would you feel if you found out I was having a …” I cleared my throat as Bella glanced up from her plate on our first night alone again since the boys left after Thanksgiving.
“A what?” She paused her fork near her lips.
I hadn’t touched my food. Kael was the only person who knew I was planning on closing the store after Christmas. Why I chose to tell him first … I had no idea.