Stop Me
Stop Me (Last Stand #2)(56)
Author: Brenda Novak
“Stop.” She raised a hand. Her heart was already racing. “You don’t know anything about me, Romain. Not really.”
“Exactly. I know things about you almost no one else does. And yet I don’t know why you left your husband, or why you don’t want to see your father, or why talking about Christmas makes you cry.”
“Because those aren’t the kinds of subjects discussed in a superficial relationship!”
He took her hands and stroked her knuckles. “I already told you I’m sorry about what I said this morning.”
Although she could tell he wasn’t accustomed to offering apologies, he seemed so sincere it was hard not to forgive him. But that was the problem with people like Romain. Sometimes they were moody, even hurtful; other times they were too charming to resist.
Besides, she couldn’t forgive him or she’d get involved with him again. “As far as I’m concerned, we can be friends. I’m not holding a grudge,” she lied.
“Maybe you could say that like you mean it.” The boyish smile he gave her begged her to do just that—and nearly destroyed her determination.
“I thought last night was incredible, okay? I’ve never experienced anything like it. The way I wanted you. The way you touched me—”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said and she couldn’t help laughing.
“I’m not finished. I liked what happened, but it scared the hell out of you, made you want to shut me out. Fine. No problem. I’m willing to let it go. I didn’t come to Louisiana to get involved with you or anyone else. Just tell me, considering all that, why I’m at your parents’ house for dinner!”
He caught her chin, tilting her head so she had to meet his eyes. “You’re here because I knew I’d never see you again if I let you go.”
She blinked, stunned by the admission. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“No.”
“But, in a way, you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” he said.
“You don’t like me, either.”
“I don’t like anyone right now, even myself.” He ran a thumb over her lower lip, and every nerve in her body began to tingle, to crave his touch. “But I want you,”he said, his voice dropping to barely above hoarse. “No confusion about that.”
When he kissed her, she told herself to pull away, to end it immediately, but that was the last thing she wanted to do. She kept telling herself, “One more second…only one more second,” until her arms were around his neck and they were plastered together, kissing as passionately as if they hadn’t made love twice already.
“T-Bone?”
It was his mother’s voice that finally broke them apart. Fortunately, Alicia was calling him from down the hall, not right outside the door.
“Just for the record, I don’t like you, either,” Jasmine whispered, breathing heavily. She could’ve clarified that she didn’t like his effect on her, but she was more comfortable leaving the statement as it stood.
“I’d still take you right here in my parents’ bathroom if I thought I could get away with it,” he said and walked out.
Jasmine spent the rest of the meal, and the cleanup that followed, trying to avoid any contact with Romain. Conversing with Tom and Susan wasn’t exactly enjoyable, but Jasmine really liked Alicia and Romain, Sr., and Susan’s kids were adorable. They gave her something to focus on, something that didn’t cause a tidal wave of inexplicable emotion—with raw desire at one end and fear of making a life-changing mistake at the other. She hoped Romain’s family hadn’t noticed the tension between them, but she knew Susan, at least, was watching them too closely to miss it.
After the dishes were done, Jasmine decided to make a few phone calls before dessert. Although she rarely spent Christmas with either of her parents, she felt obligated to wish them a merry Christmas. And Skye and Sheridan would be wondering why they hadn’t heard from her.
“Is there a phone I could use to make a few long-distance calls?” she asked Alicia as she hung up the dish towel she’d been using to dry the dinner plates.
“Someone stole my purse yesterday, so I can’t cover the charges up front, but I promise I’ll send you a check before the bill arrives.”
Alicia slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze.
“I’m not worried about the bill, honey. I’ll show you to my husband’s den, where you’ll have more privacy.”
Romain was watching a football game with his father. Jasmine stuck her head in the room and explained that she’d be on the phone, then followed his mother down the hall.
Alicia led her to an office where there was a desk, two old but comfortable-looking chairs with a small table between them, and row upon row of books lining one wall.
“You can use that phone there.” Romain’s mother pointed at the desk. “I’ll let you know when we’re having dessert.”
“Thanks.”
Alicia started out of the room but turned back at the door. “I’m so pleased to see my son with such a nice woman.”
Jasmine understood what she meant. She was tired of watching Romain suffer and was grateful to see him display some interest in regular life. She probably hoped that Jasmine’s presence marked the beginning of a complete turnaround. But that only made Jasmine feel worse about the lies she’d told. The hope she was giving this woman was false. If anything, she was pulling Romain deeper into the past, not helping him heal. Once she returned to Sacramento, they’d all be lucky if he wasn’t in worse shape than before.
“He’s a strong man. He’ll be fine,” she said, trying to convince herself as well as his mother.
“He has a good heart, a really good heart. If only you can…give him a chance.”
And nurture him along. She knew what his mother was suggesting: time, patience, love. But Jasmine wasn’t about to offer her heart to someone as high-risk as Romain. She purposely picked safe men, men who were ploddingly steady, even-tempered, easygoing. Men who didn’t have to cope with a surfeit of anger every day.
After what she’d been through with her parents, she needed that kind of security. But she couldn’t explain that to his mother without revealing her true purpose for being in Louisiana, so she simply smiled and nodded.
When Alicia left, Jasmine released a deep sigh and sank into the seat behind the desk as she picked up the phone. She planned to give herself a small break by making the friendly calls first.