Page 39 of All For You

“You next?” Lizzy leaned over me, dripping.

I looked up at her through streams of sunlight and tried not to focus on the drips coming from her sweet curves.

“Not for me,” I said.

“Oh, c’mon.”

“It looks like something kids do,” I said.

“That’s why it’s fun.” She grinned at me.

“I’m not a child. I’m a terribly dignified man,” I joked in a pompous voice. That didn’t seem like a good excuse, because three grown adults had done it.

She laughed. “You owe me. We spent the day hay baling because of your cooking debacle. C’mon.”

I was debating being totally honest. Then she nudged my arm with her toe. Cute.

“Darrrrcy,” she wheedled. Very cute.

“I don’t know,” I said. “That rope…”

“It’s safe, promise. We’ve been playing on it for years. Done it maybe a million times.”

I gave her a crooked smile. “Oh, a million. That’s different, then.Scientificallysafe. My answer, however, is still no.” I was so used to saying no, but the word came out rougher than I’d intended. “Thank you, though. I’ll watch.”

I’d always been the reticent one as a kid, hanging back, watchful, which came across as serious. And since I’d taken over Pemberley, I’d felt the unrelenting responsibility. Caution was a comfortable place for me and what worked as a boss who was expected to be in charge day and night.

But that wasn’t the real reason I hesitated.

She kept waiting and smiling.

Still sitting on the grassy bank, I shifted my weight uncomfortably. I guessed admitting my fault was the only option. “I’ve never done a rope swing before. I don’t know how to do it. I suppose I’m afraid of trying something I don’t know how to do. It makes me feel out of control.”

Right. I’d said it. That wasn’t so bad. I didn’t hate admitting I was afraid of new ventures as much as I’d thought. I’d have despised telling a boardroom or my staff I was out of my depth. But showing my weakness to Lizzy felt different. Maybe because I trusted her not to use the vulnerability against me.

She crouched down next to me and patted my shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared.”

She leaned against me a little, and I liked it. I even liked her knowing this silly fear of mine.Lean on me all you like.

“Why don’t I go on with you? I’ll even hold your hand when we jump off.” She said it excitedly, not goading, nor mocking me for being a spoilsport or cowardly.

But one phrase stuck out—I’ll even hold your hand.

“Okay, but youdohave to hold my hand. Iwillbe scared,” I said, rising to my feet. I meant it but offered my vulnerability with a tongue-in-cheek tone. Enough so that I expected her to tease me.

She peered at me with new interest. “I like that. Strength through admission of vulnerability. Occurs around the midpoint in my books.”

A soft, fragile warmth seeped through my chest, a feeling I wasn’t used to. “Always happy to help reinforce a plot point.”

Even though Knightley’s bigger bulk had been supported by the swing, I tested the stick and the rope, pulling at it, twisting it. It felt sturdy, but I was still nervous as she held the swing for me to get on.

I didn’t like that I wasn’t the one protecting her.

“You’re not going to be able to hold me,” I said. “You get on, and I’ll leap on at the last minute.” And now that made me responsible for her safety too.

She looked worried. “If you’re sure. Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to browbeat you into doing this.”

“No, seriously, I want to,” I reassured her. “It’ll be fun.”