Page 115 of Timid (Lark Cove 2)

“We want different things.”

“Different things?” she repeated. “Like what?”

“Marriage. Kids.”

“You don’t want to get married.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

“Ever? Or just to me?”

“Ever.” The last thing I wanted was for her to think it was because of her. If there was a woman I’d marry, it would be Willa.

But I wasn’t that guy. I saw the way she looked at her parents. She wanted what they had. Commitment. Love. Till death do us part. I wasn’t the man to give her those things.

“So what if I told you I didn’t want to get married either?” she asked.

“You don’t want to get married?”

“Yes, I do. I want to get married. I want to have what my parents have.” She looked over her shoulder at the house. “But I want to know if marriage was off the table, would you still be doing this?”

“Yes.”

She gritted her teeth. “Why?”

“You’re going to want kids.”

“How do you know?” she fired back. “You’ve never asked me. How do you know I want kids?”

Because I knew her. Inside and out, I knew Willa.

And at this moment, she needed to play this little game. I’d go along with it and answer her hypotheticals if it made it easier to say good-bye.

“Well?” I asked. “Do you want kids?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then there you go. I don’t.”

She dropped her arms, fisting her hands at her sides. The last time I’d seen her this frustrated, she’d been on her doorstep in her pajamas. I’d never forget how beautiful she was the first night I came to her house.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why, what?”

“Why don’t you want kids?”

“I just . . . don’t. I don’t want kids. I don’t want to get married. You do. End of story. End of us.”

She rocked back on her heels like I’d shoved her. “So that’s it?”

I nodded. “That’s it.”

“Okay,” she whispered, dropping her chin. A tear fell, landing in a scuff of snow by her boot.

My hand reached for her on instinct, but I forced it back and into my pocket. “I’ll go. Do you want me to take Ryder?”

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her stomach. “No. Let him stay.”