Okay, maybe he was mad. Maybe he’d just been offered a choice no man should have to make. A choice of A or B, when he desperately needed C. It was like the “Would you rather” game. Would you rather eat a bucket full of worms or drink a glass of vinegar every day for the rest of your life?
Neither. He wanted neither of these things.
He wanted C. Why can’t I have C, God? Or even no option at all? He wished he could rewind time and stop the question. He didn’t want this choice. It wasn’t fair to ask him to make it.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I meant what I said, Daniel. If the answer’s no, it’s okay. No big deal.”
No big deal. Marry her or not. Have the chance of a lifetime with the woman who owned his heart or lose her forever.
“Talk to me.” Her voice quivered like the surface of the water. “What are you thinking over there?”
He needed to gather his wits. He wasn’t sure he could say no to what she offered. Didn’t know if he was strong enough. But maybe he could make her rescind the offer.
When he managed to ease the tension from his face, he turned around, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his basketball shorts. “I don’t even fit the criteria.”
“Criteria?”
“Your list. The one you shoved in my face when you asked me to play Cupid.” Tone it down, Dawson. “I’m not what you want. I’m not thirty, for starters.” Why’d he start with the lamest thing on the list?
She waved his answer away. “You’re plenty mature. You’re good with kids, you’re financially secure, you’re rooted in Chapel Springs.”
“No, I’m not. My family doesn’t live here, they live in DC. And I’ll be traveling. A lot.”
“But that’s okay with me. I’ll be home with the kids, waiting for you when you come home.”
Unbidden, the image formed, and an ache unfurled in his chest. Him coming up those outside stairs, suitcase in hand, weary from his flight. Opening the door to the sound of laughter, the smell of Jade, the feel of her warm embrace. His eyes hit the floor before she read his thoughts.
He should tell her. Right now. That he did want to marry her. That he loved her, and he’d spend the rest of his life proving it, making her love him back.
Then he remembered Cody. Remembered the way she’d trashed him like yesterday’s newspaper when he’d professed his love. How she’d avoided him ever since.
Yes, Daniel could tell her the truth, and it would end all this. No proposition. No choice. No Jade.
She’d quit work. They’d become awkward strangers at her parents’ house until the discomfort became too much to bear. Then he’d stop going, and Jade would be gone from his life, once and for all.
He could end it all. Right now. She’d make the decision for him. All he had to do was speak up.
He crossed his arms, and made himself redraw the home–coming scenario with brutal honesty. How, upon his return, she’d lean in for a shoulder hug and pull away too early. How quickly her mind would return to supper cooking on the stove top while his lingered on a brief touch that was destined to go nowhere. How it would feel to have her beside him in bed, only a touch away, and not have the privilege of that touch. He could hardly bear the thought.
He felt her hand now on the bare flesh of his bicep. His muscle twitched.
“Please don’t be angry.”
She wasn’t being fair, and he was going to call her on it. “What about the vows, Jade?”
“What do you mean?”
“The vows. Forsaking all others . . . ?”
She blinked. Those green eyes. Not fair.
“I’d keep them, Daniel. Of course I would. I hope you would too.”
“That’s not what I—” He palmed his neck, making her hand fall away. Good. He couldn’t think straight with her touching him. “You expect me to go the rest of my life without any hope of ever—” His jaws clenched hard. He was just a man.
“Of course not. Our marriage would be perfectly . . . normal in that way.” She swallowed hard. Her eyes fell as her cheeks bloomed with color. “I mean, you know, if you wanted it to be.”
He turned away, needing space. Needing air. It was flipping hot in here. He was suffocating.
He ran his hand through his hair. “I have to go.”
He scanned the room for his keys, seeing his surroundings for the first time in what felt like hours. His shoes in the corner, his couch, his living room. He was already home. He shook his head, trying to clear it.
“You have to go.” He grabbed her bag off the couch and dropped it in her arms.
“Daniel, I’m sorry.”
He opened the front door. “I’ll think about it, Jade. I just—you need to go.”
She neared, standing too close, and squeezed his arm. “Let’s just forget I asked, okay? It’s not worth this. I don’t want to lose your friendship.”
He steeled himself against her touch. “I said I’ll think about it.” His tone was harsher than he’d intended.
She flinched as she turned away.
He closed the door as soon as she was over the threshold. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t think about anything else for days.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
JADE REMEMBERED DANIEL BEING MAD AT HER ONLY TWO times. When she’d returned to Chapel Springs after avoiding him for a year and when she was eighteen. He was home from college on fall break, and she’d begged to borrow his car for the homecoming dance. His parents had bought him a new Mustang when he’d graduated high school, and she wanted to surprise Aaron with it.
After the dance, she and Aaron went back the long gravel drive of the Christmas tree farm and parked. Their kisses had become progressively passionate, and his hand inched up her bare thigh, going under her new skirt. He didn’t complain when she stopped him, but he tried once more before she finally told him it was time to go.
After she dropped Aaron off, she drove the car back to Daniel’s. When he got in, she scooted across the seat so he could drive her home. The interior light flooded the darkness.
She knew she wore a dreamy smile as she greeted him. She looked out over the expansive lawn of his grandmother’s estate. She’d spent the evening in Aaron’s arms, and all she wanted now was to go home and review every single thing about their night.
She hadn’t noticed how quiet the car had gotten until Daniel spoke. “What’s this?”
His harsh tone jerked her back to earth. He was pinching a square packet in his fingers over the empty space between them.
“What the heck, Jade?”
“What’s—No, we didn’t . . . it’s not mine.”
His eyes narrowed on her, and he seemed more like a dad than a pseudo big brother. She raised her chin a notch. “It’s your car.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not mine.”
“Well, it’s not mine either.”
“I know it’s not yours, it’s that boyfriend of yours.” A shadow chased across his face, and those blue eyes of his impaled her. “What are you doing, Jade?”
“Obviously not much,” she said, grabbing the package. “Since it’s unopened.”
He glared at her for another minute before closing his door. The light went off, hiding the flush she knew had climbed her cheeks. She was stuck with the packet now, and she didn’t want to be. She couldn’t believe Aaron had brought it. Did he think she was ready for that? Was he? Is that where tonight would’ve gone if she hadn’t curbed his wandering hand?
Gravel spit under the tires as Daniel pulled down the lane, his hands flexed around the steering wheel.
Suddenly she wondered what he’d do with this private and embarrassing discovery. “You won’t say anything, will you?”
Waves of disapproval rolled off him. “You’re too young for that.”
She didn’t like being told what to do, especially not by someone who was continually shoving her youth down her throat. “I know.”
“Well, he doesn’t.”
“You better not say anything
to Ryan.” Ryan would tell Mom, or he’d confront Jade and make her wish she could crawl under a rock.
His voice softened. “I won’t. Just promise me you won’t—do anything. You’re better than that, and if he doesn’t get that, he doesn’t deserve you.”
His words warmed her even now as she pulled into the alley behind the office. She was late. She didn’t even remember turning off her alarm, possibly due to the fifty times she’d used the bathroom last night. When she finally woke, it was eight thirty. She’d taken the world’s fastest shower, throwing her hair into a sloppy updo and grabbing the first thing she’d touched in her closet.
She regretted that now. The top was loose enough on her belly, but the fitted bodice was too snug for her enlarged breasts.
She hoped she arrived before Daniel. She needed a moment to settle in, make some tea, clear her head. The weekend had dragged by. She hated this thing hanging between them. Had wished a thousand times she’d kept her big mouth shut. It couldn’t have been more obvious he wasn’t interested in her proposal. He’d only promised to think it over to appease her.
She couldn’t even blame him. She’d done a terrible job of explaining herself. She’d talked in circles, making little sense. No wonder he’d looked so confused. As she’d prepared for the conversation, she’d tried to anticipate every possible reaction. She’d feared he’d suggest a straitjacket, or even laugh at her idea. She’d suspected he’d be turned off at the thought of being with her physically. But anger had never figured into the equation. He must think her the most selfish woman in the world. Maybe she was.
He’d left Saturday morning for a meeting with his fund-raising manager in Indy. He’d been due back last night. She’d thought he might come over or call. She wanted this settled, couldn’t stand Daniel being mad at her. She’d nearly texted him several times.
But he’d been pretty clear about needing space. And now they faced a long awkward day together, pent up in the office.
She pulled into her slot, heaving a sigh when she saw the empty lot. Grateful for a few minutes’ reprieve, she unlocked the front door, started the tea, and settled in at her desk.
The first message on voice mail made her pause. “Hey, it’s me. I got hung up in Indy. I have a meeting that was delayed until Monday. I have a ten o’clock and lunch meeting on the calendar. Could you reschedule those for later this week? I’ll be back in the office tomorrow. Thanks.”
She listened to the message again, listening for tone instead of content. He didn’t sound angry. Almost normal. A little distant or distracted? Maybe he was okay. Maybe she hadn’t ruined things between them.
The day dragged worse than the weekend. She rescheduled Daniel’s appointments, answered phone calls, and worked on a mailer. The office was quiet without Daniel. Quiet and boring.
By the time she drove home she was exhausted, the mental battle wearing her down. The babies pressed on her bladder, her back ached, and she wanted to climb into bed and pull the covers over her head.
Her rumbling stomach derailed her plan. While she was reheating last night’s spaghetti, Izzy called, distraught over some guy. Jade consoled her, talking until dark. When she hung up, she changed into the pink maternity pajamas Mom had bought and stuffed her swollen feet into her fuzzy green slippers.
Overhead, the elephants were performing tricks. Going to bed early was probably futile. She took a long, thirsty drink of water and placed the bottle back in the fridge. She’d regret that last sip in a few hours.
She flipped off the lights and was almost to her bedroom door when a quiet rap sounded on her door. It wasn’t late, but it was a work night, and even her family rarely stopped over without calling or texting. Whoever it was knew she was home, since she’d just turned out the lights.
Her heart in her throat, she approached the door and leaned into the peephole, her heart thumping hard.
Daniel stood on the other side, dark head down, eyes fixed on the ground. Her pulse picked up as she leaned away. She drew a steadying breath, unlocked the door, and swung it open.
His head came up, his eyes sweeping down her pajama-clad body.
“Hey,” she said.
His eyes stopped at her fuzzy slippers, then darted to his watch. “Sorry. I should’ve called. You’re ready for bed.”
She shrugged. “Just getting comfy. Come on in.” She opened the door and he brushed past, making a wide path. “Want something to drink?”
“No thanks.” He perched on the edge of the recliner, not meeting her eyes. “Sorry to bail on you today. Any trouble rescheduling those appointments?”
She shook her head. “One’s on Thursday, the other’s Friday.”
He leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. “Good. Good. Any problems?”
She shook her head. “It was pretty quiet. Your trip went well?”
“Yep. Just fine.”
The dread that had been building all weekend, swelling throughout today, gained dangerous momentum. So this was how it was going to be. She’d wanted an end to the tension, hadn’t she?
She flipped on the lamp and curled into the corner of the sofa, pulling a pillow into her belly as if she could shield herself from his rejection.
It’s not like you didn’t see it coming, Jade.
She should focus on salvaging their relationship. Getting things back to normal. Was that even possible?
The least she could do was make it easy on him. She wished she’d thought ahead, had something planned. But then she’d done that last time and look how that had turned out. She inhaled deeply, smelling the clean, fresh scent he’d carried in with him.
“Listen, Daniel.” She could hear the tension in her voice. “I—I made a mistake. I’ve been torturing myself with this all weekend. The last thing I wanted to do was put you on the spot or make you feel uncomfortable or like you had to—”
“Yes.”
“—Step in and save the day, and I never wanted you to feel—”
“Yes, Jade.”
“—Taken advantage of, because our friendship means—” Jade heard his words belatedly. She frowned, taking the pause to breathe because somehow she’d forgotten to do that.
“What?” she asked.
“I said yes.” His lips twitched a little as his eyes caught hers. “This makes three times now.”
Her breath caught as she stared into his eyes, wondering if she misunderstood. If wishful thinking misconstrued his words. Had she asked a question while she’d been rambling?
“Yes?”
He hiked a brow. “It was a yes or no question, right?”
Now she was really confused. Maybe she had asked something. She reviewed her words, but it was all a blur.
“The proposition? Friday? Ringing a bell?”
“You mean . . . yes?” The word squeaked out. Yes, he wanted to marry her? Be her husband, the father of her babies, her partner, her lifelong mate?
Something flickered in his eyes. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”
“But you—when you left—I thought—What happened to—Why?”
He studied her for what felt like forever, until heat flooded into her ears, making them burn. He’d been angry. She’d thought she’d be lucky just to salvage their friendship.
His blue eyes pierced her. “Second thoughts, Jade?”
“No. You just seemed so upset . . . I thought—”
Her giddy thoughts and rapid heart confirmed her conviction. She’d told herself all weekend it had been a mistake, but that was only because she thought she’d lost Daniel. But now, with the possibility of this actually happening, she wanted nothing more.
“Maybe I want the same thing as you,” he said, finally answering her question.
“A father for your babies?”
His lips twitched again. He settled back in the recliner, tented his hands under his chin. “What you said makes a lot of sense.”
“It did?”
“I love the idea of a family to come home to. I j
ust never wanted all the conflict my parents had. Early on, Mom hated Dad being gone so much, and they fought all the time. Then she left me with Grandma and went off with him. I don’t want that for any kids of mine. With you, I wouldn’t have to worry about that.”
“I won’t fight you on the travel—I know what your career entails. And I’d never leave my kids.” Our kids? This was going to take some adjusting.
“Exactly.”
Her thoughts turned outside this room. “What about—you know, the rumor. Won’t this make people believe . . . ?”
“I don’t care what people think. If they want to believe the babies are mine, they can. We’ll know the truth and tell the truth, that’s all we can do.”
“And your parents?”
“What about them?”
“They don’t like me.”
“They don’t know you.”
She pursed her lips. “They’re going to hate this idea.”
He left the recliner and sank onto the middle of the sofa, facing her. His knee, touching hers, comforted. The soft glow of the lamp lit his face.
“They’re hardly in a position to advise me on marriage. This is our decision, not theirs. What about your family?”
She grabbed the hand that rested on his thigh. It was big and warm. His thick fingers, a hindrance on the guitar, felt sturdy and capable in hers.
“They already think of you as a son. You know that.”
“That was before I took their daughter away.”
“You’re not taking me anywhere. You’re already stuck going to all the family gatherings. At least you know what you’re getting into.”
“I love your family.”
She heard the tremor in his voice and knew what he was thinking. She suspected they were more his family than his own were. If something went wrong between him and Jade, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing them.
She squeezed his hand. “They love you too. That’s never going to change.”
“What are we going to tell them?”
“What do you mean?”
He gave a wry smile. “This isn’t exactly your typical marriage.”
“It is in every way but one. That’s between the two of us. I don’t see why they have to know details.”
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