She met his gaze. “I do. I trust you, Kipling.”
He’d been with a lot of women over the years. When he’d been young, he’d taken advantage of all the invitations thrown his way. As he’d gotten older, he’d been more interested in quality than volume, but women had always been available.
He’d been charmed, blown away and knocked sideways by different women, but he couldn’t remember any of them giving him such a kick to the gut with a handful of words.
He wanted to tell her that she was right to trust him. That he would protect her, be there to take care of things. Only they were having dinner, not getting married. It was the town, he told himself. Or the way she looked in her dress. Or how big her eyes got when she looked at him.
“Lemonade okay?” he asked.
“Lemonade?”
He held in a grin. “You were expecting something else?” Because wine was a lot more traditional. But he hadn’t wanted her worrying about the evening and how it would progress. Not serving alcohol went a long way toward allowing her to relax.
He stepped back and poured them each a glass, then led the way out onto the patio.
The barbecue was at the far end. There were a couple of lounge chairs by the back door. She took one, and he settled in the other. They clinked glasses.
“How’s Starr?” he asked.
“Better. We’ve had a few therapy sessions.” She smiled. “It’s not like I thought.”
“You’re not lying on a sofa, talking about your feelings?”
She laughed. “No. We sit upright and talk about problems, then the therapist offers really practical suggestions on how to approach them. Starr is going to have chores she has to do every week and get an allowance. We’ve made a list of house rules and punishments.” There was wonder in her voice.
“Is that good?”
“It’s strange, but yes, I think it’s good. Normal teenage responsibilities. Starr has consistency. We both know what’s expected and what the consequences are if she breaks a rule. So I don’t have to worry about being the bad guy. We’ve negotiated everything in advance, so she’s a part of the decision-making process.”
He thought about how things had been when he’d been a kid. How his father would lash out for no apparent reason, and the consequences were often destructive.
“My parents could have used a system like that,” she continued. “There weren’t any rules. What I could and couldn’t do changed from day to day. A lot of my friends were envious, but it wasn’t as fun as it sounded.”
“You never knew if you were okay,” he said.
“You’re right. I don’t want that for Starr. I want her to feel safe.” She turned toward him. “You left home when you were pretty young, right? To ski?”
“Uh-huh. I lived with my coach and his family, and there were lots of rules. Breaking them was not an option.”
“Like what?”
“Everything from keeping up with my schoolwork to exercising to what I ate to getting enough sleep. I had to be in peak shape to compete.” He winked. “My body is a temple.”
She laughed. “Of course it is.” Her mouth twitched. “I was going to make a vestal-virgin joke, but that’s probably not a good idea.”
“It is if you want to talk about it.”
“Vestal virgins? Not really.”
“Your virginity.”
She sipped her lemonade. “Not my favorite topic.”
Nor his, but there were things to be said. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
She turned to him. “You didn’t. I mean it hurt a little, but it wasn’t a big deal. The pain.” She sighed. “Now that I’m learning how to be in a family unit, I can see that you were right before. When you said I should have told you. I wasn’t thinking straight, so that was part of it. And the other part is...” She hesitated. “I wasn’t embarrassed exactly. But I knew being a virgin at my age made me different. Of course, a lot of things make me different.”
She looked away as she spoke. As if unsure about his reaction to what she was saying.
“Why would you worry about that? You’re beautiful, talented, caring. Why would you think you don’t fit in?”
“I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood. I don’t play well with others.”
Several things occurred to him at the same time. First, she’d totally ignored his compliments. Because she wouldn’t believe them? Had the little girl shone less brightly than her famous parents? Second, he thought she played just fine with others. Especially with him. And he’d like to have a lot more playtime. But that wasn’t what they were talking about.
“Do you want to play with others?” he asked. “Your no-sex rule is pretty extreme.”
“I know. It’s just the things I saw. People make really bad decisions because of sex. They do things that aren’t rational or right. Avoiding the whole problem seemed the best solution.”
“But for every person who acts out, there are thousands who manage to have a sexual life and act responsibly. It’s like saying you’ve seen one kid have a tantrum in the grocery store and you didn’t like it so you’re not going to have children.”
“What is it about men and logic?” she asked, smiling at him.
“Go with your strength.”
“I still think sex is the root of all evil.”
He’d been with a lot of women over the years. When he’d been young, he’d taken advantage of all the invitations thrown his way. As he’d gotten older, he’d been more interested in quality than volume, but women had always been available.
He’d been charmed, blown away and knocked sideways by different women, but he couldn’t remember any of them giving him such a kick to the gut with a handful of words.
He wanted to tell her that she was right to trust him. That he would protect her, be there to take care of things. Only they were having dinner, not getting married. It was the town, he told himself. Or the way she looked in her dress. Or how big her eyes got when she looked at him.
“Lemonade okay?” he asked.
“Lemonade?”
He held in a grin. “You were expecting something else?” Because wine was a lot more traditional. But he hadn’t wanted her worrying about the evening and how it would progress. Not serving alcohol went a long way toward allowing her to relax.
He stepped back and poured them each a glass, then led the way out onto the patio.
The barbecue was at the far end. There were a couple of lounge chairs by the back door. She took one, and he settled in the other. They clinked glasses.
“How’s Starr?” he asked.
“Better. We’ve had a few therapy sessions.” She smiled. “It’s not like I thought.”
“You’re not lying on a sofa, talking about your feelings?”
She laughed. “No. We sit upright and talk about problems, then the therapist offers really practical suggestions on how to approach them. Starr is going to have chores she has to do every week and get an allowance. We’ve made a list of house rules and punishments.” There was wonder in her voice.
“Is that good?”
“It’s strange, but yes, I think it’s good. Normal teenage responsibilities. Starr has consistency. We both know what’s expected and what the consequences are if she breaks a rule. So I don’t have to worry about being the bad guy. We’ve negotiated everything in advance, so she’s a part of the decision-making process.”
He thought about how things had been when he’d been a kid. How his father would lash out for no apparent reason, and the consequences were often destructive.
“My parents could have used a system like that,” she continued. “There weren’t any rules. What I could and couldn’t do changed from day to day. A lot of my friends were envious, but it wasn’t as fun as it sounded.”
“You never knew if you were okay,” he said.
“You’re right. I don’t want that for Starr. I want her to feel safe.” She turned toward him. “You left home when you were pretty young, right? To ski?”
“Uh-huh. I lived with my coach and his family, and there were lots of rules. Breaking them was not an option.”
“Like what?”
“Everything from keeping up with my schoolwork to exercising to what I ate to getting enough sleep. I had to be in peak shape to compete.” He winked. “My body is a temple.”
She laughed. “Of course it is.” Her mouth twitched. “I was going to make a vestal-virgin joke, but that’s probably not a good idea.”
“It is if you want to talk about it.”
“Vestal virgins? Not really.”
“Your virginity.”
She sipped her lemonade. “Not my favorite topic.”
Nor his, but there were things to be said. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
She turned to him. “You didn’t. I mean it hurt a little, but it wasn’t a big deal. The pain.” She sighed. “Now that I’m learning how to be in a family unit, I can see that you were right before. When you said I should have told you. I wasn’t thinking straight, so that was part of it. And the other part is...” She hesitated. “I wasn’t embarrassed exactly. But I knew being a virgin at my age made me different. Of course, a lot of things make me different.”
She looked away as she spoke. As if unsure about his reaction to what she was saying.
“Why would you worry about that? You’re beautiful, talented, caring. Why would you think you don’t fit in?”
“I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood. I don’t play well with others.”
Several things occurred to him at the same time. First, she’d totally ignored his compliments. Because she wouldn’t believe them? Had the little girl shone less brightly than her famous parents? Second, he thought she played just fine with others. Especially with him. And he’d like to have a lot more playtime. But that wasn’t what they were talking about.
“Do you want to play with others?” he asked. “Your no-sex rule is pretty extreme.”
“I know. It’s just the things I saw. People make really bad decisions because of sex. They do things that aren’t rational or right. Avoiding the whole problem seemed the best solution.”
“But for every person who acts out, there are thousands who manage to have a sexual life and act responsibly. It’s like saying you’ve seen one kid have a tantrum in the grocery store and you didn’t like it so you’re not going to have children.”
“What is it about men and logic?” she asked, smiling at him.
“Go with your strength.”
“I still think sex is the root of all evil.”
