“Daniel went to Lamaze with you? Why am I just now hearing this?”
“It was so awkward. We had to watch The Movie.”
Madison’s eyes lit a second before her laughter escaped. “Oh, that is hilarious.”
Jade glared. “Anyway . . .”
“Sorry. You were saying.”
“I’ve been wondering about something lately. I wanted to run it by you.”
Madison’s eyes twinkled. “Are you two secretly dating? Do you have feelings for him?”
“What? No.” Sure, her thoughts had run wild once or twice. He was a man, and she was a woman. They spent a lot of time together. It was only natural.
Madison’s face fell. “Oh. Sorry. Go on.”
“I guess you’re actually not too far out of the ballpark. I was . . . well . . . this idea . . . it seemed stupid but . . . I don’t know . . . the more I think about it . . . you might think . . . but that’s only because—”
“Jade. Spit it out.”
Jade took a cleansing breath. “I’m thinking of asking Daniel to marry me.”
Madison’s lips fell into a straight line. They parted. Her eyes fell at the corners. “I’m confused.”
“I know it seems crazy, but—”
“You just said you didn’t have feelings for him. Right . . . ?”
“Well, of course I love him. He’s Daniel.”
“But you’re not in love with him.”
Jade’s chin notched up. “Not all marriages start with head-over-heels gushy love. Look at Grandma and Grandpa. They were just friends, matched up by their parents, practically an arranged marriage. And look how happy they were together.”
“That was fifty years ago.”
“The principles still apply. What? You think we’d stand less of a chance than the couples who marry for love? Just look at Ryan and Abby. They were madly in love when they got married, and look at them now. Game over. Ryan still hasn’t recovered.”
“They were young.”
“Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce.”
“Exactly. Marriage is hard under normal circumstances.”
“Who’s to say what’s normal? Years ago arranged marriages were normal, and there were practically no divorces back then. In biblical times—”
Madison popped to her feet and walked toward the window. “You can’t do this, Jade.”
“Why are you getting upset?” She couldn’t see her sister’s face but noted the straight line of her shoulders, the crossed arms. “I know it seems crazy at first, but if you’d just listen—”
Madison turned. “You’re just scared right now. Worried about motherhood. But this isn’t fair to Daniel. He deserves to be loved. Really loved. Not some platonic, watered-down version. And you deserve that too, Jade.”
Jade stood. “That’s just it, though, Madison. He doesn’t even plan on marrying.”
Her silhouetted expression was impossible to see. “What?”
“I won’t go into it—it’s not my story to tell—but I think this would be good for him. He’s about to become a national political figure. I would be there for him. What kind of a lonely life would he have with no family? He deserves better than that. I do love him, you know I do. Just not in that way.”
Madison’s lashes swept down as she studied the floor. “You haven’t brought this up to him?”
“No.”
Madison’s eyes swept back up. “I don’t think you should. Think about the awkward position you’d put him in. You’re pregnant with twins and feeling the need to give your babies a father, security. I get that, I do, but he’s going to understand that too. And he’s going to feel pressured to say—”
“No. No, I won’t pressure him. I’ll let him know I’m fine either way, that it won’t change anything. And anyway, if anyone understands what it’s like to be raised without a father, it’s Daniel. His dad was never there for him.”
“And yet he turned out great. You can do this on your own, Jade.”
“But why should I when it’ll work out so well for both of us?”
“Do you really think you’re cut out to be a politician’s wife?”
Her back went up. “Hey. I can be personable and charming when I want to be.”
“That’s not what I mean. All the fancy dinners, all the sucking up and playing nice. It would wear you out. You’re very authentic.”
“So is Daniel, and he manages.”
“Jade, don’t do this. Be patient. God has someone for you. Someone who’ll love you and your babies. You have to trust Him.”
“Maybe this is God’s plan, did you ever think about that?”
“This is ridiculous.”
Jade frowned, her shoulders slumping. Daniel was practically family already. She’d expected some skepticism, but not this.
“I’ll think about it. But you can’t say anything. Not even to Beckett.” Last thing she needed was word spreading around the family before she did anything.
Madison sighed. “I won’t.”
A few minutes later Jade pulled her car from the gravel drive, her mind unsettled. She hated that Madison had been against the idea. Because the more she’d tried to convince her sister, the more convinced she’d become that it was the right thing for both of them.
She thought about what Madison had said about God’s plan. Did God even have a plan for her? The way her life was going, it didn’t seem like any kind of plan. More like random acts of trauma.
A terrible thing had happened, and now she had to make her own plans. But Madison apparently didn’t understand that. Jade wasn’t looking for happily-ever-after, and neither was Daniel. Maybe that’s what most people wanted, but the very thought shot terror into Jade’s heart. Her relationship with Daniel was appealing. Safe and comfortable. Moreover, her children would feel loved and wanted. They’d grow up secure and well-adjusted. Loved.
Someday they’d know about their birth father, when they were old enough to understand. But they’d grow up with the love of two parents and all the security that went with it. And Daniel would have the family he deserved. She did love the guy. Being good to him would come naturally.
She thought back to the closet, to how it had felt, being in his arms. She could feel that way every night. She’d almost given up on having that. But it was within her grasp. If only Daniel could see the many mutual benefits.
Maybe Madison couldn’t see the plan’s perfection, but it wasn’t her decision. It was Jade’s and, ultimately, Daniel’s. If he was uncomfortable with it, then that was it. It was over. But if he embraced the idea, it could be the answer to both their prayers.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
DANIEL LOWERED THE BAR TO HIS CHEST. BLOWING OUT, HE pressed the weight up. The loud, driving beat of “Whispers in the Dark” filled his house, bouncing off the walls in a wild cacophony that matched his mood.
He pressed the weight up again, straining, pushing himself. His shoulders burned. A drop of sweat trickled down his temple and into his damp hairline. Despite his fatigue he lowered the bar, sucked in a few ragged breaths, and pushed it up again. A long groan escaped as he strained against the weight, the sound mingling with the insane guitar solo.
He lowered the bar to the cradle, his breaths fast and hard. His pecs burned, and his shoulders needed a rest. But he rose from the bench and lifted the bar behind his head, balancing it on his shoulders.
If he worked hard enough, sweated profusely enough, maybe he could forget. Forget the frustrating meeting with the board of education, forget the unreasonable personalities that had made his left eye twitch, forget the fact that he was cooped up in an office with the woman of his dreams, a woman who had no idea he was head over heels for her.
He closed his eyes and focused on the heavy beat of the chorus, letting it drive him through a set of punishing squats. He’d thought he could handle it. Most days he could. He could keep his eyes, his hands to himself, stay focused on work. He could almost pretend it wasn’t killing him.
>
Then there were days like today.
When everything seemed to go wrong, when it seemed like God was deliberately tweaking his last nerve by dangling the unattainable in front of him 24/7. Days when even a good workout couldn’t clear his head or work off the steam.
His thigh muscles quaking, he lifted the bar again and started another set. The song built into a raging mix of driving drums and fast guitar licks, like a fireworks finale, ending with dramatic flair.
The sound of his hard breaths filled the space between songs. That’s when he heard the knock on his door.
Daniel lifted the bar over his head, dropping it to the mat. His muscles quivered with fatigue as he walked into the dimly lit living room.
It wasn’t late, but October had ushered in earlier sunsets. Through the living room window, the last bit of daylight streaked the sky with muted, fading colors over the river.
“Looking for Angels” began, the music filling the empty spaces of his house.
He reached the door as another knock sounded.
Jade stood on his stoop, her fist still raised. One look at her beguiling smile, one whiff of her spicy, exotic scent, and he wanted to scream at the temptation thrown in his face yet one more time today.
“Hey,” she yelled over the music. “Got a minute?”
Her green eyes, all wide and vulnerable, made his jaw clench. This wasn’t her fault. “Sure. Come on in.”
She brushed past, making the skin at the back of his neck tighten. He pushed the door closed, wiping the sweat from his face with the bottom of his T-shirt. When he turned the music down, the room seemed to vibrate in the virtual silence.
“Skillet, huh? Love the strings. I’m interrupting your workout.”
“I was finishing up.” He grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. “Drink?”
“Sure.”
Normally he would’ve poured her tea, but tonight he did the easy thing.
“Thanks,” she said as he handed her the bottle. She dropped into the corner of the leather sofa.
He took the other end, watching her uncap the bottle and take a sip. Her hair fell away from her face as she tilted her head back, calling attention to her slender neck. Her white filmy shirt was fitted on top and cinched just under her breasts with a wide band.
Daniel looked away, downed a quarter of the bottle. Why was she here? Wasn’t it enough that he had to pretend all day?
She set the water on the coffee table. Her toe tapped a beat that was too fast for the power ballad. She clutched her bag to her stomach, and his eyes settled there a moment, on her rounded tummy, guilt pricking him hard. She was pregnant with twins through no fault of her own, living in a—let’s call it what it is—seedy apartment on the bad side of town, and he was having a pity party about his bad day.
You’re a real jerk, Dawson.
He watched her twist her thumb ring. Something was bothering her. Maybe he could stop being so self-centered for two seconds and figure out what it was.
“What’s wrong, Squirt?”
She winced a little. He hadn’t called her that in months. Wasn’t sure why it slipped out now. Maybe the need to keep that barrier in place.
Something was there, bubbling inside. He could see it in her tapping foot, her scrunched brows. He wondered if she was going to quit. The thought made his heart flounder in his chest like a live bass in the bottom of a boat.
Idiot. You were just moaning about too much time with her.
That was probably it, though. She’d gotten a new job, more money, better benefits. Something that didn’t bore her to tears. Of course she had to take it. She had the babies to think of. But she was afraid he’d be upset.
“Just tell me, Jade. It’s okay.”
Or would be once he got through the withdrawal. How would he face his office without her sweet little jabs, her dry humor, her reluctant smile? It seemed inconceivable she’d ever been gone a year. Inconceivable that he’d survived without seeing her, hearing her voice for a year. His gut clenched tight at the thought of going through that again.
“I, uh . . .” Her eyes bounced off him, settling back on her busy fingers. “I have a proposition.”
He frowned. They weren’t the kind of words that preceded “putting in my two weeks’ notice.” Daniel angled himself into the opposite corner of the couch, feeling the need for distance.
“Go on.” He wondered if he’d regret the words. There was a humming energy in the room that had nothing to do with the music playing quietly in the background.
She took another drink, not stopping until the bottle was half-empty and crackling with lost volume. A drop of water clung to her lower lip. She blotted it with the back of her hand.
“You can say no.” She met his gaze.
The fear he saw there made his mouth go dry.
“I want you to understand that. It won’t change anything or upset me in any way. I want what’s best for you.” Her eyes and tone drove home her point. “Okay, Daniel?”
He angled his head away from her. “What are we talking about here?” Even he heard the wariness in his voice. But it was nothing compared to the dread churning in his stomach.
Her eyes clung to his. Not like she wanted to look at him, but like she should. Like it was the right thing, the courageous thing, to do.
Her chin tipped up. “Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay? Just let me get it out, and then you can tell me that I’ve completely lost my marbles, okay?”
“You’re freaking me out.”
She gave a wry laugh. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, because it’s fine either way. There’s no wrong answer here so—”
“Just say it, Jade.” Before he dropped dead of heart failure. Before he reached out and smoothed away the creases marring her forehead and forgot she was just his friend and employee.
“You know how when we were in the closet you said you didn’t want to marry? How your career in politics didn’t support the kind of family you wanted?”
His chest tightened. “Yeah . . .”
She started on the pinky ring, watching as she twisted it. “Well, I wondered if maybe something else would work. Deep down, I know you want a family. You saw your mom choose her husband over you to the point that she practically abandoned you here in Chapel Springs. I know you suffered for that, and I’m sorry. She should’ve stayed. Even if your dad had to be gone a lot. You needed her, and she wasn’t there.” She looked at him, her hand stilling on her stomach. “I would never do that.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” He’d never thought it for a second. Not even after he’d learned how she’d conceived. His mom wore motherhood like a fancy shawl, but Jade would wear it like a second skin.
“I know you dated that one woman in DC—Courtney?—so I don’t think you’re completely set against the idea of marriage. I can’t help but think you dated her because you can’t quite give up on the idea. And you shouldn’t. There are so many things you’d miss. Things like companionship and a real home to come back to. What about warm meals, and laughter, and support?”
Was she trying to encourage his relationship with Courtney? Is that what this was about? She was pushing him off on another woman? Swell.
“What are you getting at, Jade?”
She drew in a breath, and he imagined her counting to five. She blew it out just as slowly, and he wished he were counting for her like in Lamaze class so he could speed this up.
She met his gaze. “I’m talking about us. Getting married. You and me.”
Everything seemed to stop. His thoughts, his heart, his breath. Even the music paused. Then his throat closed. His breathing resumed, shallow and erratic. His heart made up for lost time.
He’d heard wrong. He had to have. He shook his head as if his ears were waterlogged. But they weren’t waterlogged, they were information-logged.
“I—I know what you’re thinking.”
He nearly laughed. She couldn’t possibly. He didn’t know what he was
thinking. His brain had malfunctioned.
“But just hear me out.”
She started on some story about her grandparents, but he couldn’t focus. All he could think of was how wonderful it would be to have Jade for himself. To have his ring on her finger. Have her by his side. Quiet suppers and bathroom sink sharing and bickering over closet space. Boat rides and grocery trips and sheet wars. And later . . . school programs, family devotions, Saturday morning cartoons.
He reined in his thoughts with a sharp tug. The images, as wonderful as they seemed, were a lie. Maybe not a lie, but a surface view. Inside, deeper down, was the truth. Jade wouldn’t be his. Not really. She loved him, but not the way he loved her. She wouldn’t want him physically, the way he longed for her. That sure wasn’t part of this “proposition.”
The line would be drawn at the bedroom door, and who could blame her? She wouldn’t make love to a man she viewed as a brother.
And where did that leave him? She’d be his on paper and before God and man. But her heart would never be his. She’d called it a proposition, but really it was more of an invitation to both heaven and to hell.
If working with her was frustrating, how would it be to live with her? Knowing she was his, but not really? So close to the real thing and light years from what he wanted.
But as close to the real thing as you’re ever going to get, Dawson.
He couldn’t believe this was happening. Thanks a lot. Thanks for dangling this impossible temptation under my nose. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to God or to the vague mysteries of the universe that seemed intent upon stealing his sanity.
He could feel the walls closing in, his throat closing up. His clothes felt constricting, the dampness making his skin itch.
He jumped to his feet and walked toward the window where he could see the great stretch of space across the river. The wind rippled the water, dappling it with the last light of the day. His hand palmed the back of his neck, squeezing the tightness.
“You’re mad.”
“No I’m not,” he said automatically. He was frustrated, afraid, confused, tense, and torn. But mad?
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