took hold of her hand. Like a brother, like a friend. His words were a low rumble full of concern and caring. “I think you spent a lot of years doing what was right in spite of how much it hurt. I want you to be able to do what’s right and have it result in happiness. But knowing what that feels like might be hard after so many years of being brave.”
A shiver went through her, and she sighed heavily. “I hear you. It was hard,” she confessed, “but I don’t regret staying with Ben.”
“We all regret not helping him more, and that’s on us,” George said seriously. He nodded and gave her hand a final squeeze. “We won’t interfere unless you ask, but we all hope the path forward is nothing but sunshine for you.”
“You never see a rainbow if it never rains,” Dana pointed out. “But thank you. See you at the Canada Day celebrations?”
“I’ll be there with flags on,” George promised.
He was walking out the door when his brother walked in, the two men pausing for a brief hello before Mark sauntered toward the table.
Looking the man over was enough to give Dana a thrill. Mark wore faded Wranglers over well-worn cowboy boots, his strong thigh muscles pressing against the fabric. A hint of a black T-shirt peeked out from under his red flannel shirt, and as he sat opposite her, he placed his cowboy hat on the seat then dragged a hand through his hair to straighten it.
She caught herself smiling in admiration. He was easy on the eyes. He was, in fact, the hottie that Hope had told her—
Oh, dear.
A sharp zing darted up her spine, and Dana played with her empty cup to hide how much she was feeling at that moment. Correction—how much not we should only be friends she was feeling.
“You all coffee’d out?” he asked.
“You haven’t had a cup yet,” she pointed out, thankful for something specific to answer to instead of continuing to drool over his sexy forearms and the firm cut of his jawline.
The jawline on a face that had gone sheepish. “I want to apologize properly, and I don’t want to do it here.”
Dana considered then nodded, leaving money on the table for her own drink.
They walked quietly down the sidewalk side by side before Dana gestured toward the empty playground with strategically placed benches around the perimeter. “Want to sit there?”
“Sure.”
They settled then twisted to face each other. Mark caught her hand, cradling her fingers gently. “You’re right. I was an ass, but—”
“Is this an apology?” Dana interrupted. “Because usually when my kids used the word but, it meant they were about to explain why they had done the thing they weren’t supposed to do that they weren’t really sorry for doing in the first place.”
“I have thought about you for so long.” Mark’s amused tone was also honest and deep, a rumble sliding over her and making her warm to her very core. “In fact, I have been thinking about you being mine for longer than I should’ve, which means I pushed way too hard.”
She couldn’t fathom what he was talking about, even though he had admitted it from the first moment. “You are light years ahead of me,” she pointed out. “I like you. I even—”
She bit back that particular confession, because it wasn’t what was needed right now. Instead, Dana shook her head and focused. “But you need to be patient, because what you want and what I want could be the same thing, but you’ve got to give me time to get there.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. Not for the building our house thing, but for not giving you the time to know that building our house is the right thing.”
A laugh escaped in spite of herself. “You are absolutely terrible at this, aren’t you?”
His grin widened, all sweet mischief as if they were about to sneak off behind the barn and he couldn’t wait. “I’m being very patient in some ways,” he pointed out, the innuendo in his deep voice unmistakable.
Oh, boy. The shiver that went through her body was intense and sharp, edgy with need.
Stick to the point. “You need to be patient,” she repeated. “But the other thing you have to understand…”
Her throat closed tight. Just the thought of this confession seemed so wrong.
Mark instantly wrapped an arm around her. “Shhh. It’s okay.”
She shook her head. She spoke quietly, barely above a whisper because it was all she could