In Name Only (Pine Falls #2) - Jennifer Peel Page 0,21
you mean?”
He braved inching toward me, though he wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I was thinking about what Brant,” he growled his name, “said yesterday about you deserving a better husband.”
How unexpected. I perked up a bit.
His eyes drifted up and met mine. “Dani, we were once friends.”
“The best of friends,” I whispered.
“Best friends,” he agreed. “I think friends is a good place to start while we sort out this mess we’ve found ourselves in.”
He wanted to be friends? I didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry. Being friends hadn’t worked out so well for us. Or at least for me. Yes, I’d loved being his friend, and he was an excellent one, but I’d always wanted more. I wanted more now. Yet, I could see the pain in his eyes. The pain of my choices.
“Okay,” I agreed half-heartedly. What else could I do? I was never going to beg him to love me.
He pursed his lips, obviously unsatisfied with my lackluster reply. What was he expecting? Shouts of joy? “Dani,” he sighed. “I know this isn’t the ideal situation for either one of us. It’s going to take time. But I promise you, I will be better.”
“Better how?”
He scooted closer. “For starters, I’ll be a better roommate. I want you to feel comfortable at home. You can’t keep coming here. If the press were to find out, it would create a firestorm.”
Him referring to himself as my roommate pierced my soul. “So, this is all about keeping up appearances for you?” I lashed out.
His face exploded in red. “You think that’s what I care about?”
“What else?” I dared him to contradict me.
He shook his head in anger. “The question you should be asking is who, not what. And the answer is you. Do you think I would go through this hell for anyone else?”
“I don’t know anything anymore,” I cried.
His features softened. “Dani, please don’t cry. I didn’t come over here to upset you. I want to make this work. And the only way I can think of is to start from the beginning. We have to learn to trust each other again.”
I wiped my eyes and tried to stifle my tears. “You’re right,” I conceded.
He gave me a half smile. The first one I’d seen in forever. He rested his hand on my leg covered by the quilt. “Can I take you home now?”
“I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep. I’ll come to your place tomorrow.” I wouldn’t think of it as my home until Brock treated me like his wife. Until we shared a bed and all of each other. I wasn’t sure that day would ever come.
“All right. I’ll stay here with you tonight.” He kicked off his shoes and stretched out his legs on the coffee table. He’d done it dozens of times before—before all this mess. Still the same hope lived in me. That maybe one day, when he decided to stay, he would truly be mine.
“That’s not necessary.”
“I promised you I would be better. I’m starting here.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. Could it be true? Could we possibly build a relationship out of the ashes?
“Go to sleep, Dani. I’ll watch over you.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?” Those words fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I sounded like a scared child.
“If that’s what you want.”
More than anything, yes.
Chapter Seven
“The doctor is good with his hands,” Erin purred in my ear. She was one of a handful of paid employees at Children to Love. With how little I could afford to pay her, it was more like volunteering, but she wasn’t here for the money. Regardless of her monetary compensation, she was an amazing development and outreach coordinator.
I stopped gawking at Brock from across the shop area while he taught a group of our students how to build a bookcase. He had decided his time would be better spent volunteering instead of moping at home until he could return to work. And I think he was trying to make good on being a better husband or friend or whatever he was. While things had been better between us the last few days, there was this underlying tension and confusion that simmered below the surface while we tried to navigate our situation.
I smiled at Erin and admired her flawless ebony skin and her uniformly brilliant shiny black hair. She was ten years older than me but didn’t look a day over thirty. She used to be a