by T. J. Kline
“I should have called you while I was in San Francisco,” he said into her hair. “I should have told you everything from the start and kissed you good-bye that morning. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Leah. If I’d just stepped up, you wouldn’t have thought—”
“No, I shouldn’t have just assumed . . . ”
“You wouldn’t have if I’d just told you how I felt before I left.”
Leah looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest.
“I should have told you that what I feel for you is nothing like I’ve ever felt before.” Gage brushed her hair back from her face. “I’m falling in love with you, Leah.”
LEAH HOPED THE shock she felt didn’t register in her face. Her heart felt like it actually stopped for a moment. Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn’t say anything. He must have seen something in her eyes because he cleared his throat quickly.
“I know it’s too soon, and it doesn’t make any sense to me either, but I can’t explain it.”
“Gage,” Leah couldn’t hide the uncertainty in her voice. “You can’t love me.”
He gave her a sad smile and shrugged. “Leah, I can’t help it.”
She turned her back to him in order to avoid seeing too much in his eyes. Leah ran a hand through her messy waves, pulling them to one side, shielding her face from his penetrating scrutiny. His finger traced the curve of her shoulder, trailing over her upper arm. Desire rippled through her, spreading slowly, sapping any resistance she had. He loved her?
“Leah, because of you, I was able to fix my mistake, without letting go of my company or laying anyone off.” He turned her back toward him. She could feel the heat from his gaze, could almost hear him willing her to look at him. “I was able to secure funding for a foundation for at-risk kids, like Jude, who are tech-savvy but need an outlet. That’s what took so long.”
Her gaze snapped back to him. “You what?”
“When I talked to Jude, and was able to get past his anger and resentment, I realized that if someone just listened and let him use his skills in a safe environment, he’d have been less likely to cause the trouble he did. I want to give kids like him a place to do that, a place where people will listen. Nathan’s helping me, and I convinced the board that Iconics should provide most of the funding for the start-up.”
She’d accused him of being too motivated by money to do the right thing for his employees, when in reality, he’d not only taken care of them, but he was trying to take care of the same kids she wanted to help. She’d completely misjudged him. She could blame it on being disillusioned because of her past, and that was likely true, but Gage had never deserved her doubt. He’d never done anything to cause her to assume he was anything less than generous and kind and giving. He’d already proven it with her.
“Gage.” Tears filled her eyes, choking her, making it impossible to finish what she started to say.
He gave her a half-smile and shrugged. “After talking to Jude, I realized he didn’t have much to look forward to. Maybe something like this would help. It’s not going to be cheap, but with the investors Nathan and I’ve been able to line up, it’ll be great. I told you, I wanted to fix things.”
Leah frowned and shook her head. “Fix things?”
“Him, his life.”
Fix him? Leah felt an icy shiver fall over her, freezing the blood in her veins. She’d heard those words a million times growing up as she bounced from home to home. People always wanted to fix her, not the problem.
“The way you did with me?”
“What?”
“Jude isn’t some thing you can fix, Gage. You can’t just throw money at everything and think that will solve the problem. He isn’t broken.” She backed away, and the dogs jumped to their feet, immediately rushing to her side, quickly tuning into her agitation.
“That’s not what I meant.” Gage’s gaze hardened.
“I think it is, Gage. You see Jude as a problem to be fixed. You have a hero complex.”
Gage closed his eyes and dropped his head forward, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I did this because of you, Leah. You were the one who made the plight of these kids real to me. Jude just helped me connect it to something I could actually do to help.”
“Why me?”
“What do you mean, ‘why you?’ ”
Gage took a step toward her, but the dogs stepped between them. Razor focused on Gage, and a low growl sounded from deep in his throat.
“Back,” she ordered Razor.
The dog quieted immediately but remained vigilant between them, for which she was grateful. She couldn’t let Gage touch her. She’d fall into his arms again if he did. She’d been a victim for far too many years, and she wasn’t about to return to feeling helpless and weak. She’d left that woman behind when she left Bakersfield and swore she’d never go back. The fact that she’d allowed him to fix her car, buy her groceries, and even let him crawl under the house for the kittens, had just eaten away at the independence she’d fought so hard to win over the years.
“Leah, don’t do this. Stop trying to find a reason to push me away.” He ran his hand over his head, the way he did every time he grew frustrated, and her heart ached to comfort him, but the doubts that had been raised by his words refused to flee, even in the face of his denial. He walked around the dog and reached for her hand. “Why do you keep searching for something wrong that doesn’t exist? I told you I’m falling in love with you. We should be excited now, making love again, not arguing about why I’m trying to do something good.”
“Don’t. Don’t touch me, please.” Her voice broke on a sob she couldn’t hold back, and all three dogs would have rushed toward her if she hadn’t signaled them to stay. “I’m not broken, not anymore.”
She couldn’t be. To admit she was meant the past still owned her, still controlled her actions, that she was still a victim. But she knew she was lying. She could feel it in the depths of her soul.
“Baby,” Gage whispered, cupping her face between his palms, forcing her to look into his eyes, “it’s okay.” He pressed kisses to her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, as the hot tears she hadn’t realized she’d been holding back, burned a trail down her face. “You’re not broken,” he agreed.
Except she knew he was lying.
She’d known better than to let anyone close. Not only was she broken, but she was about to break him. It was the only way to keep herself safe, to keep any more of her heart from chipping away. She needed to be alone, because if she was alone, no one could hurt her.
“Leave.” Her voice was frigid. The anguish he’d seen written in her face moments ago were gone, replaced by chilly apathy. “And don’t come back.”
“Leah.” He couldn’t believe after what they’d shared, after everything said, this was really what she wanted. “We need to talk about this. You can’t possibly believe that I’m trying to change you.”
“No, you think you can save me from what happened.” She pushed him away. Again. “But you can’t. It happened, and nothing is going to fix that.”
She walked into the bedroom and shut the door. “I’m asking you to leave before I come back out,” she said from behind the door. She cleared her throat. “Good-bye Gage. I hope the foundation and your company do well.”
He’d been dismissed, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Gage stared at the closed door, wondering what had just happened, how it had escalated from telling her he loved her to being shut out of her life.
“Leah?” He knocked on the bedroom door, but she didn’t answer. Twisting the knob slightly, he felt the lock catch. “Leah, come out and talk to me, please.”
He wasn’t sure what to do. If he left, it would be admitting she was right, and he didn’t believe that. Not for one second. But to stay and try to force her to talk would only make this situation worse. If there was one thing he’d quickly figured out about Leah, it was that she didn’t respond to force. It would only cause her to shut down. Probably
because it reminded her too much of her past.
The Lab came to scratch at the bedroom door, dragging Gage out of his thoughts. He noticed the border collie curled in the hall and both kittens lying on top of him. The shepherd stood at the end of the hallway, watching him warily. He might as well feed the animals and wait for Leah to finally come out.
He wandered around the kitchen, trying to figure out what he’d said or done that had triggered such an emotional reaction. He’d told her he was falling in love with her, and damn it, he meant it. He’d been excited about Apotheo and the good that would come of it, the way they would be able to direct kids away from the criminal activity and help them become more than just hackers. They were already setting up several scholarships, and she had been the inspiration. He’d seen the way she was with the boys, the way they listened to her, the way she was able to help them. Watching her, he realized he wanted to make that kind of difference, to use what money and power he had to do something good.
Gage wanted to do it for her, to be the man she thought he was. He thought she’d be happy about it, too.
His heart crashed, and he suddenly realized why she was so upset, why she accused him of having a hero complex. She thought he wanted to change the kids, not their circumstances, which led her to think he wanted to change her. He hurried back to her room, stepping around the three dogs and the kittens trying to pounce on his feet, and knocked on the bedroom door.
“Leah, come out.”
“Go away.” He heard the hiccup and the watery tone of her voice and knew she was crying.
“Baby, this is really about trying to help these kids. Yes, I wanted you to be impressed, I guess, but that’s not the only reason.”
She opened the door, looking furious and gorgeous. His pulse quickened, but he was smart enough to know this wasn’t the time for desire.
“I came here to start over. I finally had a chance to put my past behind me, and I thought I could. But more than anything else, I was going to use what happened to me to make a difference, to show others how they could overcome the trauma, to prove to them that it didn’t have to define them.” She shoved her way past him and headed into the hallway. “But then you come along and you’re so great. You’re kind and generous and just . . . ” She turned and met his gaze, her own watery again as she threw her hands into the air. “Wonderful.”
Leah cleared her throat, and he could see the resolve settle over her. Alarm tensed every muscle in his body.
“And now you’re saying that you’re falling in love with me.” Her voice choked and he rushed to her. “Don’t.” Leah held a hand up, refusing to let him closer.
He’d seen this side of her, the adamant, stubborn woman who was far too independent for her own good.
“What happened to me is over. I’ve moved on as much as I can. Yes, I still have occasional anxiety attacks. Yes, it has affected my relationships, and probably always will.”
“It doesn’t have to.” His voice was thick with emotion. He already suspected what she was going to say, and he didn’t want to give her the opportunity to say it.
“What I have gone through has made me the woman I am. It gives me insight that most other people would never have. I know how these kids feel, growing up in the system, unloved and unwanted. They don’t need to be fixed. I don’t need to be fixed.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.” She threw her hands into the air. She took a deep breath and another step away from him. “Start the foundation. It’s a great idea. But I can’t be a part of it with you. I can’t be with you, Gage, because you don’t love me. You love the idea of being my savior.”
“No, that’s not it.”
Leah crossed the room to the front door and grasped the handle. “You want to rescue me from my past, Gage. But this isn’t a fairy tale. I’m not a princess you’re going to rescue from an evil queen. You’re not my prince. There is no happily-ever-after. Not for me.”
She opened the door.
“Leah, can’t we just talk about this? You’re not even giving me a chance to say anything.”
He could see by the look in her eyes that arguing with her was getting him nowhere. He wasn’t sure how to make her see how mistaken she was, but standing here, in her entry, he knew that nothing he said would help. He walked toward the door, knowing that once he walked out, he might never get another chance to touch her, to say what he wanted to say. His hand rose to caress her cheek, his fingers trembled as his thumb brushed her lower lip.
“I’m not sure why you’re doing this, but I’m not going to give up. I’m not turning my back on us. I care about you too much, Leah.”
She closed her eyes, unwilling to look at him any longer. He brushed a gentle kiss to her lips before she could protest and felt her tear slip between the seam of their lips. Salty and bitter. It tasted like good-bye.
“For the record, it was you who saved me, Leah.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
LEAH STOOD ON the front porch of the house, watching as the group of girls arrived. Most of them had the frail, skittish appearance that characterized teen girls who hadn’t lived typical, prom queen existences, but there were two who looked more intense than the rest. Leah couldn’t tear her eyes from them and knew she would arrange it so both were in her first group when she, Jessie, and Julia split the girls up this afternoon. She could already tell that the pair was going to be difficult by the way they were refusing to follow Jessie’s directions, trying to hide their anxiety and fear behind masks of defiance. It was like looking into a mirror.
It had been four days since she’d told Gage good-bye, and she’d tried to throw herself into her work, preparing for this group of girls. It had been therapeutic during the day, but at night, when the ranch was quiet, she couldn’t help searching out the cabin, watching for lights, hoping for just a glimpse of him, even as she prayed that she wouldn’t see him. Her heart had shattered when he’d walked out the door. But it hadn’t been because he walked away, she was used to that. It was the last words he’d said to her: You saved me.
She’d been so certain that he was trying to change her, the way everyone else had, that once again she’d made the assumption that he was the same. She still wasn’t sure she was mistaken.
Hell, she would have tried to change someone like her.
Wasn’t that exactly what she was trying to do as a therapist? Was there really a difference between helping someone and trying to change them?
She watched the two girls again, as everyone else crowded around the corral, where Jessie had brought in a pair of geldings for them to become acquainted with and where the girls would be able to rid themselves of any fears they might have with the horses. Jessie had suggested it as an opportunity for her to watch them without the girls feeling like they were under a microscope. But Leah knew, as a foster kid, you were always aware of people surrounding you, looking for ulterior motives and waiting for the next bomb to drop.
As if sensing her scrutiny, the older of the two girls looked directly at her and arched a brow, nudging the other and pointing.
Busted.
Now that she’d been spotted, she’d let Jessie introduce her to the group. The counselors already knew there was a therapist on staff, but she doubted they’d shared that information, and she didn’t want the girls to see her as someone trying to get into their heads. But she didn’t want to keep her role on the ranch a secret either. She and Jessie had already talked about not pressuring this group to reveal anything, considering their abusive backgrounds. She made her way down the steps, leaving the dogs in the house.
“Here comes Leah,” Jessie said as she approached. “She’s going to be helping us with some of the exercises. She’s a therapist, but she’s mostly here to make sure I don’t screw up.” Jessie winked at Leah.
“Hey, guys.” There were a few mumbled greetings, a couple of eye rolls, and the girl who’d spotted her leaned to the side to whisper into the other girl’s ear. Leah could o
nly imagine what was said. “I have a feeling you guys will be better than I am with the horses within just a few days, since I barely know anything about them.”
She turned to Julia standing outside the corral quietly holding Emily. “And Julia has been great to help us with some dogs that are probably tearing up my kitchen right now, but I’m hoping I can at least help a little bit. Just know my door is always open.” She pointed to her house and saw Gage standing on the front porch of the cabin, watching her.
“Who’s the stud?”
Leah’s head jerked back to the group to see the voice had come from the girl who had spotted her. She was definitely more like Leah had been at her age than she wanted to believe—crass, impulsive, and probably hiding behind the hard-ass persona for protection.
Julia was the first to speak up. “That’s my brother-in-law. He was just visiting and is heading out today.”
Leah felt her stomach plummet to her toes. He was leaving? Julia met her gaze, and Leah didn’t miss the sympathy in them. She wondered if Gage had told Julia what happened.
“Too bad,” she heard from the same girl. She met the girl’s eyes, making a mental note to tell Jessie that she wanted plenty of time with the pair after the lesson.
“Anyway,” Jessie said, dragging the word out, directing the girls’ attention back to her. “I’m going to have all of you come into the corral slowly and check out these two boys. They’re both very gentle and have spent a lot of time being handled from either side. They’re big, but they’re more like big dogs than horses.”
Julia opened the gate and let the girls inside, while Leah tried to ignore the heat of Gage’s gaze on her back and focus her attention on the group, trying to pay attention to who seemed timid or unsure around the large geldings. There were only three who exhibited any sort of hesitation, and it didn’t last long once the rest of the group had surrounded the animals. Her gaze strayed away from the group back to Gage. He was already heading back into the cabin.
