"Regardless, I appreciate your advice and guidance along the way. I can't imagine going to that party last night without you being there."
She shuddered, and he knew she was thinking about the two men who'd nearly taken advantage of her, and would have if he hadn't shown up after his meeting with Trixie.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shifted on her feet. "After I talked to you on the phone, I went to The Ultimate Fantasy and quit, and I wanted to say good-bye to Roxanne, who is the only woman who really befriended me. I'm glad to be out of there, but I feel so bad for her and her situation."
Steve realized she was babbling, talking faster than normal, and suddenly seemed nervous. She was here for another reason, he knew, and when she opened up her purse and withdrew an envelope, he steeled himself for what was to come.
She held the unmarked envelope out to him but wouldn't look him in the eye. "I also wanted to stop by to give you this."
He thrust his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, refusing to take what she was offering. "What is it?" he asked, even though he knew what was inside that sealed envelope.
Her shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. "It's my paycheck from The Ultimate Fantasy, signed over to you. It's a good amount for a week's worth of work, including my cut from the party last night. I also had some extra money at the end of the month from the cafe, so I took a draw and included a check for that in here, too. Between both, it's a decent amount, and should help to pay off what I owe you."
His entire body flashed hot with irritation, and his jaw clenched so tight, he was certain he'd grind his teeth to dust. He'd had more than he could take of her obligation to him, and resented the fact that she believed she could wrap up their relationship all neat and tidy with a check to pay for his services.
"I don't want your money, Liz. Or your gratitude, either." He curled his hands into fists in his pockets, looking from that envelope that stood between them to her face. So beautiful. So vulnerable. So fearful of taking a chance on them. "What I did for you, I did because I wanted to. Our agreement might have started out with a loan, but what I want and need from you now isn't money or your appreciation."
He wanted, needed, her love.
Her eyes widened with surprise at his frank, straightforward approach, along with deeper insecurities that controlled too much of her life. But she remained silent.
"I'm disappointed that you think this is all about owing me anything," he went on, figuring he had nothing left to lose. "Then again, you measure everything in your life based on responsibility, guilt, and obligations to everyone but yourself, so why should this be any different?"
She stiffened defensively. "You have no idea what my life is like."
"That's insulting, considering how intimate we've been and all that we've shared. I understand your life, and you, better than you think," he said, unable to hold back the roughness in his tone. "When are you going to stop hiding behind the guilt and obligation to your aunt and uncle for them taking you in after your parents died? Not to mention a responsibility to a cousin that doesn't deserve it?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, her denial coming much too quickly.
"I believe you do." He leaned back against the edge of his desk, hating that he was causing her pain, but knew it was necessary in order for her to get past all the emotional issues she'd carried with her since she was orphaned as a child. "It's easier and safer for you to be the responsible one and strive to please everyone else than risk getting hurt. I don't want to hurt you, Liz; I want to love you. But you have to let me in."
She shook her head jerkily. "I can't give you what you need," she said, her voice raspy and loaded with burdens. "I'm just getting the cafe back to where it should be, I've got Valerie to look after, and after everything with Travis-"
He held up a hand, bringing her excuses to a halt. "We all have issues to deal with, sweetheart, and it's all in the way we handle and resolve them." And she obviously hadn't resolved hers, and possibly wasn't willing to. "You need to live your life for yourself, not everyone else. And that means taking chances and making choices that make you happy."
Not touching her was killing him, and he finally reached out and ran his knuckles down her warm, soft cheek. "You're so busy taking care of everyone else, but who takes care of you, Liz? Who is there for you when you need a shoulder to lean on, a smile to get you through the day, or a hug to soothe your fears and make you feel like you're not alone?"
She had no answer, and that saddened him. "Let me be that person for you," he whispered. "Trust me, and trust your feelings."
She swallowed convulsively but made no reply.
Picking up her hand, he placed a kiss in her palm, felt the tremble of her fingers against his jaw, and knew he'd said everything he could. The rest was up to her. "When you're ready to take a chance on me, on us, you know where to find me."
She set the envelope on his desk and glanced at him one last time before she turned and left. It gave him no satisfaction to see the well of tears in her eyes, or to watch her walk out of his office and his life.
Liz had never felt so alone and miserable in her entire life, even while being surrounded with her employees and customers at The Daily Grind. She'd kept her mind and hands busy the entire day in an attempt to work off the restless, anxious, edgy feeling that had settled within her since she'd walked out of Steve's office the previous afternoon. But now, curled up on the couch in her apartment and drinking a cup of hot tea while she waited for her cousin to finally walk through the front door, she had too much time to think. Too much time to replay her conversation with Steve in her mind. Too much time to question herself, her actions, her life, and her future.
Too much time to wonder if all the emotional sacrifices she'd made over the years had been worth it-the biggest sacrifice of which was letting Steve go and believing that was for the best.
He loved her. The mere thought made her chest tighten and her pulse race. The last night he'd made love to her had been magical, a joining of not only their bodies but their hearts as well. She might not have been able to speak the words aloud, but there was no denying that she'd fallen in love with him, too.
She just didn't know what to do about it, because her fear of letting Steve into her heart was stronger than her desire to let him so completely into her life.
Sighing discontently, she dragged her fingers through her hair and took another drink of her tea, letting the warmth seep inside her and take away the chill that went bone deep. Unfortunately, there was no antidote for the ache in her chest or the tight squeeze of her heart.
The rattling of a key being inserted into the front door lock pulled Liz out of her troubling thoughts and had her bolting anxiously across the living room to wrench open the door.
Valerie, standing on the other side of the threshold, surrounded by shopping bags and luggage, gasped in startled surprise, then glared at Liz. "Jesus, give me a heart attack, why don't you?" Her gaze traveled the length of Liz in one single sweep, and then she smirked. "You certainly look like hell."
Liz shook her head in disbelief at her cousin's greeting. No "Hello, how are you doing?" Or "Gee, I suppose I should have let you know that I was going to be out of the country for a week and a half."
Instead, Valerie was more concerned with Liz's appearance. Amazing.
"I guess compared to you, I do look like hell." Liz certainly felt like it. Her hair was a mess from repeated finger-combs, she had no makeup on, and she was dressed in her rattiest jammies. Her cousin, on the other hand, looked incredibly chic with a new hairstyle, an impeccably made-up face, and a cute little outfit that showed way too much skin.