“My dad was working on a big deal. He and my mom only came on the weekend, unless my brother had a tournament. Then they didn’t come at all.”
Daniel listens in silence.
To his credit, there’s no pity on his face. Just compassion tinged with incredulity.
“I can’t imagine abandoning your own child.”
“They had another child who needed them, and spending time with him was more glamorous.” I lift a shoulder. “I’m no doctor and the thought of the MCAT gives me hives. But I’m a pretty good listener. I can be there for someone, while they’re going through whatever it is I can’t fix for them.”
He reaches for my hand under the table, and I squeeze his fingers.
I’m not a PDA girl. But this is basic human comfort.
It’s as if our souls seek one another out.
“I’m not sure we ever get over things,” I say after a moment. “We just get on with them.”
“Cheers to that.” He extends his glass and clinks it with mine.
For the rest of our meal, I’m lighter than before.
But another feeling is building beneath the surface.
When he smiles or takes a sip of his wine there’s a little tug low in my stomach.
When we share tiramisu for dessert and our forks collide, my breath catches.
When he asks the waitress for the bill and reaches casually for his wallet, I bite my lip.
By the time we finish dinner, it’s not comfort either of us is seeking.
His hand brushes my shoulder as he pulls out my chair.
We walk side by side to the truck, his touch lightly on my back in a way that has need coursing through me.
“This dress should be illegal.”
I smile in the dark. “You’re not a fan?”
“Of crashing the truck because I can’t keep my eyes on the road? Not so much.”
The passenger seat is slick under my bare legs, and I shift to try to alleviate the ache between them as he pulls out of the parking lot.
“I like your truck. It’s very spacious. You can do a lot in here.”
“I’ve been imagining it ever since we sat down to dinner.”
I trace a finger along my lip. “I bought condoms.”
“Me too.”
We both grin like teenagers, high on each other and this moment.
His hand slides over to my thigh, his thumb caressing my bare skin near my knee.
He traces slow circles upward. Higher and higher toward the edge of my dress.
A sigh slips out.
I reach for his hand, press it higher between my legs until he curses.
“It’s all I can do not to pull over right now.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because if I do, we’ll be here for hours. And most of what I want to do with you is going to be really hard in this truck.”
He shifts his hand back down to my thigh and I chew on my lip.
Soon we can both have what we want.
Still, the trip is agonizingly long.
When we get to the door, Liv greets us.
But Andy bounces around the corner.
She lifts her palms. “We tried going to bed. He insisted on waiting up. I think he’s having a rough night.”
Dammit.
The kid is so cute, but I wanted his dad. The look Daniel tosses me says he’s thinking the same thing.
“No worries. Thanks for staying with him, Liv.”
“Sure thing.”
I walk her to the door.
“How was the date?” she whispers.
“It was good.”
“Good or goooood?”
I roll my eyes. “It was really fucking good, okay? Thanks for telling me to go.”
She squeezes me in a hug. “Anytime.”
When I get back, Daniel’s in Andy’s room, reading one of Andy’s favorite books. His voice makes me smile.
“Now, can you sleep?”
Andy shakes his head.
“What’s up?”
“I miss Mommy,” I hear Andy say.
Daniel exhales hard. “Me too.”
“Really?”
“All the time. What do you miss the most?”
A pause. “I miss her pancakes. The ones with the hearts on them. And the way she knew all the words to the songs I liked. And I miss how she smelled.”
My heart wrenches as I watch Daniel pull his son to him.
It was still a great night, I decide as I brush my teeth.
I expected it would end in bed. It didn’t.
After getting back, I changed out of my dress and into my pajamas, laying the sexy lingerie I picked out back on the dresser.
Some things are more important, like being a dad. Daniel’s an incredible one.
When I return to my room and slide between the sheets, I leave the door open a crack.
It’s minutes or hours later when I hear a sound.
“Andy?” I whisper. Maybe he’s up and needs to be settled again.
“It’s me.”
Butterflies rise up at Daniel’s voice.
“I’m late.” He lingers in the doorway.
“I don’t mind.” I shift out of bed and cross to him. “Is Andy okay?”
He nods.
“Are you okay?”
There’s no answer.
I reach for his hands, find them both balled into fists.
The wedding ring is back on his finger.
I press up on my toes to wrap my arms around him.
26
DANIEL
The date was supposed to be simple.
A way to get out of the house and spend time with her on even ground.
But I’m so caught up in her.
Her strength.
Her humor.
What she’s been through.
The things she told me tonight only made me care about her more.
She deserves someone who can care for her with his whole heart without obligations. Not a man with a kid down the hall that still cries for a woman he can’t bring back.
Not someone who’s spent the last three years getting over it and is starting to see that in some ways, he never will.
“I need you,” I murmur against her ear. My voice shakes a little.
Does she know what I’m asking for?
If she says no, I’ll respect it.
I’ll turn and go back to my room and lie between the sheets and stare at the ceiling until it’s time to get up and start another day.
The words hang between us in the dark. There’s only my shallow breathing, her light scent in this place. Otherwise, we could be ghosts.
Her cool hands reach for my face.
“I’m here,” she whispers against my mouth.
I breathe out everything I’ve held inside.
Expectations.
Grief.
Disappointment.
Abandonment.
Longing.
Regret.
So much fucking regret.
“That was some date, huh?” I murmur against her hair.
“Best date ever.” She laughs softly, but her grip tightens. “We’re allowed to feel joy next to pain, Daniel. Happiness isn’t reserved for those people who’ve lived without suffering. It’s better appreciated by those who have.”
Her words unleash a rope coiled deep in my chest.
With it comes possibility.