that I'd change somehow. That I'd stop caring about my art and settle down and have a bunch of kids. He didn't like that I worked."
Bobby had wanted all of her attention on him. The truth was, he wanted everyone's attention on him and he didn't want to share the spotlight. When Mariah had received a writeup in an art magazine, he'd sulked for weeks.
Ryan frowned, his expression quizzical. "He didn't want you to paint? Why?"
"He wanted a more traditional wife," she explained. "I guess he thought I would change after the marriage vows. I thought he would change too, so I guess we're even. I shouldn't have married him. I see that now, but at the time..."
She didn't continue. Explaining it was only going to make her look even more stupid than she had actually been.
"I wanted to believe that love could change people," she finally said. "That it solved all problems. I should have known better."
"You didn't think I could change."
True. She hadn't and that was one of the reasons that they'd broken up. Somehow, she’d thought that Bobby could change. Maybe because he'd been older and supposedly more mature. It didn't make much sense looking back. She'd simply wanted to believe so badly because she wanted to be in love. She wanted her happily ever after. Now she knew it didn't work that way. Love wasn't handed out willy-nilly because you were a good person.
"Maybe...deep down...I thought I would change. But I didn't. And he didn't either. We didn't have a nasty divorce or anything. I think we both just realized that we made a mistake. The thing I truly regret is that I disappointed my parents. My mom had a little talk with me when Bobby and I got engaged. She tried to tell me that we were too different to make it work but I thought she was only saying that because she still wanted you to be my boyfriend."
That made Ryan smile.
"Your parents are the nicest, most wonderful people ever. I adore them."
"And they adore you," she said with a laugh. "You were the son they never had."
His smile instantly dropped. "And now? How are Mom and Dad going to feel about me possibly stealing their baby girl and taking her to Seattle? Are they going to hate me?"
"No, they'll just build a house near us and visit until we want to scream."
"Your parents could never make me scream."
"You say that now..."
His gaze shifted back to the painting, and she could see his shoulders tense.
"I've had a few somewhat serious relationships."
"I'm not sure what a somewhat serious relationship is," she replied carefully, not wanting to push back too hard. The fact was she curious. Liza had tried to keep Mariah in the loop about Ryan's romantic life, but she hadn't wanted to hear it. "Were you engaged?"
"No, but I thought about it once."
"Just once?"
Turning back to Mariah, he rubbed at his chin. "I was pretty focused on my career, to be honest, but there were a couple of women that I dated for awhile that I thought might turn into something. They didn't, obviously. They were good people. It just didn't work out."
"I'm kind of jealous," she admitted. "But I'm glad that you had someone in your life that made you happy. I wouldn't want to think about you being alone all the time."
"I'm kind of jealous, too."
It was a breathtaking admission from a man that didn't talk about his feelings much.
"We can't change the past, and I'm not sure that I would even if we could. I like the people that we became a hell of a lot more than the kids we were. We have a better chance this time. A real chance to make it work."
Reaching out, he pulled her in so their bodies were flush against one another. She slid her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, so soft and silky.
"I want to make this work, Mariah. I want that future with you."
Together, they'd make it happen. It might be work, but it would be worth it.
24
Dinner arrived and Knox came back to Mariah's apartment to eat. They all sat on the floor around the coffee table, talking about the day they'd had and their plans for tomorrow. The top of Ryan's list was a meeting with Isla. He wasn't going to take any more of her excuses.
"So what leads do you have left?" Mariah asked when they'd finished their