By the time they were sitting across from each other at her small table with a strawberry votive candle between them and the exquisite scent of steak fragrancing the air, her nerves had vanished. This was Justin, and she wouldn’t act odd just because she happened to be in love with him. That point might not even matter, depending on what he had to say.
Though she hoped it did. She hoped so very much.
The conversation meandered from Justin’s school to Christmas break to the great deal she’d gotten on her new place. It was in a building right on Main Street with a coffee shop, Brewed Awakening, on the main level. All safe topics.
When he mentioned stopping by his parents’ on his way out of town on Christmas Eve, she smiled politely and tried not to look too overeager. She wasn’t Dr. Templeton, her new therapist, but she was reasonably sure his voluntary visit to their house had to be a good sign.
“My counselor suggested I go over again, to try to familiarize myself with their life now and stop looking for parallels to the past.” His wry tone as he forked up baked potato slathered in butter said a lot about his opinion on that. “I’m not in charge of the world. They have their own lives, and loving someone doesn’t mean I have to agree with all their decisions. I just have to support my mom, and that includes her choice of husband.”
She tried not to react. “And you’re okay with that?”
He rubbed his face, and when he removed his hand, she noted the blessed lack of lines around his eyes. For once, he didn’t look exhausted. It had been a long while since she’d been able to say that about him. “Honestly? No. I’m just less okay with living every damn day with my stomach in knots, thinking today’s the day he’s going to hurt her again.”
“Good,” she said carefully, setting down her fork. She’d practically inhaled her own meal, as had he minus his potato. He’d poked and prodded at it until she wanted to yank away his plate. “So you like your counselor?”
Not therapist. He hadn’t yet used that word. It was always counselor. Whatever made it easier for him to deal with.
“She’s okay.” He shrugged and went back to fiddling with the potato skin, finally cutting off a small piece and popping it in his mouth. “She talks a lot.”
Her lips wiggled as she attempted valiantly not to smile. “That’s kind of her job.”
“I thought the client was supposed to talk all the time, preferably while lying on a couch. Easier to spill secrets that way.”
“Have you done that?”
“No. Mainly because I don’t have a lot of them that are mine. The abuse…that was mostly my mom’s. There was verbal stuff with me, but the biggest thing was the fear of what would happen to her. I wasn’t afraid for me. Even when I was a little kid, I was sure I could take the bastard.”
She gripped the seat of her chair to keep from rushing around the table to hug him. He might not have needed that—though she sure did—so she didn’t move. Barely even breathed. He’d started to open a valve, and she wasn’t going to do anything that might close it again before he’d gotten out what he had to.
“My counselor’s gone through a lot of textbook crap with me. You know, how you can’t control an event, only your reaction to it. I went through most of that in school, and I think Lola finds it funny that I can recite most of it back to her before she even gets the words out. It’s different when it’s you, though.” He sighed and tossed his napkin next to his almost untouched glass of champagne. “Way fucking different.”
“Night and day.”
“Lola asked me if it was easier to lose my mom now, while she was still alive. I never saw it that way.” He blew out a breath. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to her yet.”
“No. I know you’re not.”
“So that means I need to stop listening to what I should do and start trying to do it. Not because it’ll help me pretend to get better. Because I want to be better. I want my mom in my life for real. I want to be her son again.” He shut his eyes. “I want a place where I can bring my girlfriend on family holidays, and for it to mean something.”
My girlfriend.
Kylie swallowed deeply. She wasn’t his yet. Maybe she wouldn’t ever be. But that possibility shimmered in front of her like a diamond, and she ached to grasp it with both hands.
After they cleared up one more teensy thing.
Though she felt a little guilty, she couldn’t help her keen interest in one point. “Lola?” she asked, striving to sound casual as she lifted her own glass.
“Sorry. Dr. Sheen. She told me not to be so formal.”
“I just bet she did,” Kylie muttered, knocking back half her champagne in one gulp. Even the explosion of bubbles in her belly didn’t smother her spurt of irritation. “Really, Lola? What kind of doctor’s name is that?”
“She said—” He broke off and grinned. Flat out grinned. “Hey, you’re jealous.”
“I am not.”
“Are so.”
She finished off the rest of her drink and relaxed in her chair. She might not be a big fan of drinking under most circumstances, but tonight it was definitely hitting the spot. “So what if I am?”
He braced his forearms on the edge of the miniscule table and dazzled her with his smile. She wished she knew how to sketch, because she would’ve immortalized that carefree expression for all time. It had been so long since she’d seen it, she’d almost forgotten the joy his happiness gave her. “I think it’s fucking awesome.”
She had to laugh. “You’re weird.”
“No, it’s called having the shoe on the other foot. For so long I imagined you with your ex, and now you’re pissy about Lola. Christ, it makes my day. Hell, my fricking year.”
“Do I have a reason to be pissy about Lola?”
“Absolutely none.” He held her gaze. “Do I have anyone to be jealous about anymore?”
“No. Rob and I are completely finished. He’s moved on to his harem of sl—lovely ladies”—Justin suppressed a laugh—“and I’m living the high life, as you can see.”
He glanced around and toasted her with his glass. “It seems like a pretty good life, all things considered.”
“It is.”
“The Cove is a great little town. And you’ve got that awesome view of Crescent Lake.” He gestured toward the living room. “I bet it’s amazing when the sun comes up, all that light over the water.”
She laughed lightly. “Not this time of year, but yeah. It’s pretty sweet. And my neighbors are so fun. I’m already making friends here. One of them has a stripper pole.”
He took a quick drink of his champagne. “I hope you become very good friends.” His eyes glinted teasingly.
“We’re getting there. Luna reads tarot too.” It was Kylie’s turn to drink. “She told me I was in for a banner year.”
“That so? I’m very glad to hear it.” He cleared his throat. “I met with someone else too,” he said after a moment.
She wrapped her fingers around the stem of her glass and propped her chin on her other hand. “Listening.”