a new job...
Tate rested her forehead against the cool wall of her bedroom, too numb to think, still too stunned to cry. A part of her wanted to scream, to hurl curses at God and Fate, but mostly she just wanted to curl up into a ball and go to sleep.
Is this what an emotional meltdown felt like, Tate wondered, panic creeping up her throat. For the first time ever, she didn’t know what to do, how to act. Should she run? Should she stay? Should she talk to Linc or just pick up her niece and her stuff and leave?
Talk or run? Stay or go?
Her indecision terrified her.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Tate turned around and looked at Linc, leaning his big shoulder into the frame of the door. So solid, so protective, a guardian through and through. God, it would be so easy to throw herself on Linc’s broad chest, feel his arms banding around her, silently assuring her that she was safe, that he’d protect her. Because that’s what Linc did, the core of who he was. At eleven he’d scooped up the Ballantyne siblings and placed them under his wing, determined to shelter them through their grief. He was Connor’s heir apparent, and he felt utterly responsible for the well-being of Ballantyne International. He was insanely protective of Shaw and still worried about his grown-up, very capable siblings.
Linc saw himself as a white knight, and she and Ellie roused his every protective instinct. What she saw in Linc’s eyes was not love or affection; it was his need to watch over and care for those around him.
Tate placed her palm on the wall. As much as she wanted Linc, physically, she couldn’t allow herself to lean on him. She needed to stand on her own two feet. Find some perspective, some clarity. Distancing herself would give her that.
It would allow her to make smart decisions, decisions that would stand the test of time. Kari and her mom were the queens of hasty, off-the-cuff choices, and most of them had blown up in their faces. She wouldn’t do that; Ellie was too important, too precious to treat lightly.
Tate felt Linc’s hand on the back of her neck and closed her eyes when he kissed her temple.
“How you doing, sweetheart?” he asked, and Tate’s heart sighed. She fought the urge to turn her face into his neck, to wrap her arms around his waist and to rest there for a while. She was exhausted; emotionally and physically drained.
Tate forced her feet backwards, and Linc’s hand dropped from her neck. “I’m...” Sad? Gutted? Emotionally whipped? “I’m okay.”
Linc frowned at her. “Really? Because I’m feeling like someone used me as a floor rag.”
He lifted a hand to her face and ran his thumb under her eyes, across her cheekbone. God, she felt as if being touched by him was what she was put on this earth to do. Tate jerked her head at the thought and stepped back again, shaking her head. You’re not doing this, Tate, you’re not going down that road. Distance, dammit! Creating distance was her best coping mechanism, the way she avoided disappointment and heartbreak. And bad decisions.
Distance had served her well in the past.
“I’ve had a job offer,” Tate blurted, keeping her voice flat.
Linc’s eyebrows rose and a muscle jumped in his cheek. His hand fell to his side. “Really? Where?”
“I don’t know too much about it except that it’s a US-based travel program, which will be a change.”
“What about Ellie? How are you going to manage her and the job?”
Linc threw up his hands in frustration when she didn’t respond. He correctly interpreted her silence. “Oh, come on, Tate! You can’t seriously be thinking about giving her up. She belongs with you, any fool can see that—”
“How do I support her? She doesn’t come with a trust fund, Linc! I have to clothe and feed her and educate her! How do I do that? If I give up my career for her, where do I find another job where I can be with her and support her?”
“Here, at The Den,” Linc stated. It took a moment for the words to register, for the pennies to drop.
Tate frowned, not sure that she’d heard him correctly. “You’re offering me the nanny job?”
“I trust you with Shaw. I like having you in my house, and I’d pay you well.”
She loved Shaw and Ellie, but there were so many places she still wanted to see, to share with the world. She adored her job, and he was asking her to walk away from it? “Are you completely nuts?”
“Probably. But I’m also in love with you, and I’m trying to finding a way to make you stay,” Linc said, in an annoyingly calm voice. “I thought I’d ease you into living with me...us.”
Tate placed her fist into her sternum, utterly shell-shocked by his prosaic announcement. Linc just held her eyes, his hands in his pockets, waiting for her reaction.
Tate lifted her fist to her mouth, her eyes blurring with tears. She heard his words, but she couldn’t trust them, she couldn’t allow herself to take the risk of believing him.
He couldn’t, shouldn’t love her... She wasn’t what he needed. He needed a woman who was completely and utterly focused on him and on their life at The Den; she’d always have one eye on the horizon, dreaming about another place she wanted to explore. Linc deserved a woman who gave him exactly what he needed and wanted, and while she loved him, she was terrified that he’d one day realize that he’d mistaken his need to protect her and Ellie with love.
Besides, she needed to leave, to test her theory that distance gave her perspective. Would what she felt for Linc be as strong away from him as it was with him? Somehow she thought not.
“We agreed to keep it simple, Linc. To not let it get emotional. You told me I’m not what you wanted! You want a domestic goddess, a stay-at-home mom, a compliant wife.”
“I’m pretty sure I never mentioned the word compliant,” Linc muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck, obviously frustrated.
“You told me that I deserve to be happy, and you, for some reason, make me happy.” Linc pulled his hands from his pockets and reached for her, but Tate danced out of his grip, knowing that if he touched her, she’d never leave his arms again.
She had to—she had to run, she had to put the distance she needed between them.
“Make some ties, Tate, commit to me, to us. Stop protecting yourself from life and love,” Linc said, his eyes sad but determined. “Be brave, Tate. Love me, embrace the life I’m offering you.”
Tate wished she could, but it wasn’t possible. Tate slowly shook her head. She couldn’t risk hurting him, hurting herself. No, it was better if she left now, while both their hearts were still, sort of, intact.
When she had distance from him, when she wasn’t confused by all the emotions swirling between them, she’d feel differently, she’d feel as she always had: that she was right in her belief that she was better off alone, that she didn’t need love in her life.
Tate knew how to run away; she knew what she had to do.
She’d pack up and find a hotel, which is what she should
