Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,44

shifted around, picking up my jacket from the couch and hanging it in the front closet. “For being childish and disappearing for days.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not one to joke.”

“Graham…” I started to speak then closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to stop myself from saying something I’d regret. “Can you at least for a second accept some kind of blame for how you acted at the museum?”

“Blame? I meant every word I said to you that night.”

“Every word?” I huffed, shocked. “So, you’re not sorry?”

He stood taller and placed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Of course not. I only spoke the truth, and it’s a pity you’re just too emotional to fully accept it.”

“Your definition of truth and my definition of truth are wildly different. Nothing you said held any truth to it. You were just stating your opinionated thoughts, which weren’t asked for.”

“He treated you like—”

“Just stop, Graham. No one asked you how he treated me. No one came to you for your thoughts. I just invited you to the event because I thought it would be nice to get you and Talon away from staring at the same four walls. My mistake.”

“I didn’t ask for your pity.”

“You’re right, Graham. Silly me for reaching out a hand to someone, for trying to build a relationship of some sort with the father of my niece.”

“Well, that’s your fault. Your need to find life in everything and everyone is ridiculous and reveals your childish ways. You let your emotions drive everything you are, which in turn makes you weak.”

My lips parted in disbelief, and I slightly shook my head. “Just because I’m not like you doesn’t mean I’m weak.”

“Don’t do that,” he said softly.

“Do what?”

“Make me regret my comments.”

“I didn’t make you do that.”

“Then what did?”

“I don’t know, maybe your conscience.”

His dark eyes narrowed and as Talon started crying, I started in her direction. “Don’t,” he said. “You can go, Lucille. Your services are no longer needed.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” I told him. “I can get her.”

“No. Just go. It’s obvious that you want to leave, so leave.”

Graham was a monster born from the ugliest of circumstances. He was painfully beautiful in such a dark, tragic way. His words urged me to go while his eyes begged me to stay.

I walked past him, our shoulders brushing against each other, and I stood tall, staring into his dark eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Graham, so you can stop wasting your breath telling me to go.”

Walking into Talon’s room, I partly expected Graham to try to stop me, but he never followed. “Hey, honey,” I said, reaching down to Talon and taking her in my arms. I knew it had only been about a week since I last saw her, but I swore she was bigger. Her blond hair was growing in, and her chocolate eyes smiled all on their own.

She smiled more, too, even with her tiny cough and somewhat warm forehead. I laid her on the floor to change her diaper and quietly hummed to myself as she smiled brightly at me.

I wondered if her father’s smile would look like hers if he ever took part in the expression. I wondered what his full lips would look like if they curved up.

For about thirty minutes, Talon sat in her swing, and I read her books that sat on her small bookcase. She smiled and giggled, and she made the cutest sounds in the world as her tiny nose ran. Eventually, she fell asleep, and I didn’t have the nerve to try to move her back into her crib. She looked beyond comfortable as the chair swayed back and forth.

“I’ll need to give her medicine in about an hour,” Graham said, breaking my stare away from the sleeping baby. I looked up at the doorway, where he stood with a plate in his hand. “I, um…” He shifted his feet around and avoided eye contact. “Mary prepared meatloaf and mashed potatoes. I figured you might be hungry, and that you wouldn’t want to eat with me, so…” He placed it on the dresser and nodded once. “There you go.”

He hurt my mind with the way he twisted my opinions about the person he truly was compared to the person he presented himself to be. It was hard to keep up.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He still avoided eye contact, and I watched as his hands clenched and released repeatedly. “You asked me what I was feeling that night. Do you remember?”