by Ava Miles
Arthur squinted at the screen. “Damn small type. Hard to read, but I get the drift. Isn’t this something you need to tell Jill?”
“I tried, sir.”
“So what are you going to do about that?” Arthur rolled a red hot between his fingers.
Brian took a moment to clear his throat. “I’m going to stay here and try to work things out.”
Arthur stared Brian down over his glasses like a quizzical professor. “That’s a good start. Jill’s in overdrive with you—always has been. It’s the crappy thing about love. You’re humming Handel’s “Messiah” one day and crying in the gutter the next. Highs and lows. But with trust and time, you might find a middle ground where you can experience more highs and hold tight in the lows. That’s the key to marriage, son. I assume that’s where you’re headed if you’re staying here and not dashing off to some big-time career in New York.”
Brian nodded emphatically, even though ice still swirled in his stomach. Would she even be receptive to the idea?
Arthur reached for a photo of him and his wife, showed it to Brian, and then studied it himself. “You know, when I think back on my years with my wife, I don’t remember the bad stuff. I only think about her smile. How she felt in my arms. How she hummed when she baked cookies all day during a snowstorm. I have to really think to remember the lows.” He put the photo back. “We had them. Everyone does. But you don’t stop loving.”
Brian swallowed and gazed at the photo for a long moment. Arthur and his wife looked so young, no lines on their faces, no gray in their hair.
Brian rubbed his hands on his knees. “So, I have a proposition for you.”
“You’re not my type,” Arthur quipped, taking a seat on the adjacent couch.
If he’d been less nervous, he would have made a smart-ass comment. “As you know, Morty’s property—the one Jill and I were originally planning to buy—goes up for sale pretty soon.”
“Yes.”
He bounced his foot. “Well, Jill’s here. I love her. I want to be with her.” He put his ankle on his knee to stop jittering. “But I can’t work at the Chop House forever. I’ll go nuts. I’d like to buy Morty’s place, but I can’t do it alone.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to approach a Californian who doesn’t understand Dare.”
Arthur harrumphed. “They’ll have us all eating tofu and sprouts.”
He didn’t want to get into an argument about all the good things they were bringing into town, like organic produce. “I want this place to be a Dare staple.”
“And you can’t get a loan by yourself,” Arthur summed up.
He should have known Hale would understand. “Right.”
“You’re not worried about competing with Mac’s restaurant?” he asked, steepling his hands.
“No. My place is going to kick that place’s butt.”
“You and Jill are like two peas in a pod when it comes to your careers.” Arthur rested his cane on his lap and caressed the wood. “All this career talk is giving me heartburn. What about how you feel about each other? When are you two going to stop talking shop and realize what’s important?”
Uncomfortable, Brian lowered his foot to the floor. “We’ll work it out.” Since Hale was being candid, Brian decided to be equally so. “Shit got in the way.”
He pushed his glasses up his nose. “And what do you do when shit gets in your way? You shovel. As hard and long as it takes.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” he declared.
“Good. It worries me. My heart.” He patted his chest for dramatic impact.
Brian had to bite his lip.
Arthur dug into his pocket, pulled out two red hots, and threw one at Brian. It bounced against his chest. They tore the wrappers off and popped them into their mouths, candy crackling against their teeth.
“I’ll co-sign the loan. You’ll run the show.” Arthur put out his hand. “Unless you start serving crap. No tofu. That’s not negotiable.”
Brian gripped his hand. “No problem. I hate that shit.”
“Me too,” Arthur agreed and made a motion to the door. “Now, go get a haircut and wash that crud off your face. Women like that kind of stuff.”
He wasn’t sure it would make a difference. “Yes, sir.”
“My final piece of advice. Forgiveness is as important as love. We all screw up.”
“Thank you.” He wished for more adequate words.
“You’re welcome.” He stood, cane tapping as they headed to the front door. “I’m only helping you because I’m a bachelor now. Can’t stand to eat mac and cheese every night.”
Brian gripped his shoulder, knowing he was all bluster. “Think up your favorite meal. We’ll put it on the menu as the Hale special.”
Arthur laughed. Brian left feeling like one enormous weight had evaporated. He had a plan.
Now he needed to share it with Jill and pray they could bridge the gap between them.
Chapter 43
Jill received Brian’s response nearly twenty-four hours after she’d sent hers. I’m sorry too. Can you meet me at Jemma’s?
The sweetness of the spot had her blinking back tears. Yes, they could both use their friend’s support for this talk. She texted him back and suggested a time. He immediately agreed.
When the appointed time rolled around, she drove to the cemetery. The quiet immediately wrapped around her like a blanket. The birds chirped as she walked to Jemma’s grave, wearing her friend’s amethyst necklace for support. The bench by the graveside cushioned her. Sitting there, watching the clouds flutter by, she imagined Jemma sitting beside her, being her angel.
A car door slammed in the distance. The sight of Brian walking toward her made her heart twist. His maple syrup hair looked freshly cut and his cheeks shone with a close shave.
His eyes locked onto hers. “Hey,” he called, stopping a few yards away. “Are you ready to talk?”
“Yeah,” she answered. This was going to hurt.
His finger pointed to Jemma’s headstone. “I suggested we talk here because when Jemma died, everything between us changed. Do you remember?”
The wind swirled around her as she thought of that time—the shared hurt, opening her heart to him again. “Yes.”
Brian’s hands fell to his hips. “I don’t know how to start this, so I’m just going to do the best I can. I’m sorry I hurt you again. It was the last thing I ever wanted. And I’m sorry I lost my temper, but you hurt me too, Jill.”
His bloodshot eyes conveyed that. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
He sat beside her. “I realize how much this whole situation with Simca must have damaged your trust in me.”
His understanding cooled her flushed face as much as the bitter wind. “Thank you for that.”
“But I have to know, Jill, Simca aside, if you can ever trust me again?”
The skin on her face suddenly felt stretched across her bones. “I want to. I’ve been afraid from day one that you were going to choose her over me. Like you did before with Kelly.”
His jaw clenched. “Dammit, Jill. I love you. You’re fucking everything to me! Why can’t you see that?”
Her eyes burned. “I was scared I wasn’t enough. And then I saw you with her. I can’t offer you everything Simca can. A new career. Life with a confident, sexual courtesan. I’m just Jill. Simple, plain ol’ Jill.”
He grabbed her face in his hands “That’s bullshit. There’s nothing simple or plain about you.”
And staring into the certainty in his eyes, something inside her shifted. She realized it was true. She wasn’t Simca, but she was herself. She had talents. And she needed to stop comparing herself to other people and start loving her body for itself. Hadn’t Brian shown her how much he enjoyed it?
She could almost hear Jemma applaud.
“Jill, you stir me up, rip me up, and cut me up until I don’t know if I can put it all back together.”
Everything in her shook at his outpouring of emotion, like t
he windows in an old house when a plane went over too low.
He yanked her to him, the warmth of his body taking away the cold inside her. His hands twisted in her hair, and he kissed her. She could feel the pull of him, the draw. Her body leaned forward until they were flush against each other. Feeling the heat. The hurt. It lasted all but a minute until she wrenched back, needing to know what this meant.
“Brian—”
His head swooped down again. The hard press of his lips took her under. Opened her up. Desperation, longing, and the endless bite of love turned the kiss into a brutal act. Tongues dueled. Teeth scraped. The flash of lust turned her body to lava. She moaned—deep and long in her throat.
He tugged her back by the hair. “Do you think Simca ever did this to me? Or Kelly Kimple?”
Breathing hard, she stared at him. Looked at him. His eyes shone like the noontime sun—hot and intense. A flicker of hope took root. “So, what does this mean?”
His hands framed her face. “It means I’m not leaving you. I’m staying here. I’m going to do everything I can to help you trust me—the whole way this time. It doesn’t matter how long it takes.”
Her mouth parted. He was staying? “But—”
“What about you? I assume you’re taking the job with Mac?”
The first stirrings of a smile broke across her lips. He was staying—for her—and before he knew she was pregnant. “Yes, I took the job with Mac. I’m sorry I didn’t wait to talk to you, but I thought you were out of the picture. I hope it’s—”
“I’m one hundred percent behind you. You’ve been so happy with this new project, Jill.”
“Part of me wanted to open a place with you so you’d have to stay with me,” she said in a low voice. “It was my insurance policy, so to speak.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. Drew in the warmth and the heat. “But I could see it wouldn’t work. I was afraid I would start agreeing with you just so you’d stay. Our ideas were totally different.”
He caressed her hair. “Yes, they were, which is why I’m going to buy Morty’s place. I’m done working for someone else. With the new hotel on its way, my vision has a chance to succeed here.”
Her heart soared like the crows flying out of the nearby tree. “That’s wonderful!”
He traced her brow. “And I’m going to partner up with someone who understands Dare almost as well as you do. Your grandfather.”
Like a shot to the heart, it paralyzed her for a moment before the real impact sunk in. “My grandpa agreed to go into business with you?”
All the misery in those Bengal-tiger blue eyes evaporated, replaced with pure mischief. “He’ll be a silent partner on one condition: I can’t serve tofu.”
That wonderful old codger. He always supported her—and did it on his own terms. She had to bite her lip to keep it from trembling. “Sounds like him.”
“Of course, you might be wondering why I asked him and not someone else.”
She cupped his face in her hands. “I know you, remember? You were asking for his approval after everything that’s happened.”
He pressed his forehead to hers in one rapid motion. “I should have known you’d get that.”
“And he gave it to you.” Arthur Hale was no fool. He knew his approval counted. God, she loved him.
“And you have clear warning. I’m going to marry you,” he whispered. “One way or another. Sometime in the near future or in a few years. Whatever it takes. I’m through with letting my parents screw with my head. We’re not them. We’re us,” he said, leaning back, “and I love you. You’re my most important thing in the world to me.”
Hadn’t she been waiting years to hear him say that? Her face fit into his neck like the space had been waiting for her. She breathed him in. Spice and forest and something else—red hots, she realized. She took a moment to savor it, him. He was telling her everything she’d ever wanted. Now it was time to share her other news.
“I need to tell you something else,” she whispered.
His eyes beamed. “What?”
She caressed his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm. “I’m pregnant.”
His mouth dropped open. He didn’t blink. Didn’t say a word.
“Brian? I know it’s a shock. I took the test after the city council vote since my period still hadn’t come. Isn’t it our luck that we struck gold, so to speak, on the first—”
“When were you planning on telling me?”
“When I texted you.”
“Wait. Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
Was he freaking out? Changing his mind? She knew how scared she was thinking about taking on a new job with a baby on the way. “Please—”
“Stop. Give me a minute.’” He paced a short distance away. But he didn’t head to his car. With his back turned, she couldn’t see his face.
She gripped Jemma’s gravestone, scared their future hung in the balance again.
***
Her news had him struggling for breath. She was pregnant?
Jesus, what in the hell would have happened if he hadn’t stayed? Being separated from his kid would have ripped his guts out. His knees almost gave out at the thought. The shock rolled over him as he tried to make sense of it—and what it meant for them.
He rose and started toward her. Her hair shone like hot coals, a reddish orange so rich it kindled warmth. The breeze twirled the ends of her curls, tracing her tear-streaked face and neck like his fingers itched to do. Her green eyes reminded him of the spring coming in a few months. Soon, these grounds would be a rich emerald carpet, the showcase for granite gravestones and flourishing flowers.
He pulled her to him. When he kissed her, everything inside him settled. Her mouth opened under his, giving him her tears and love and the promise she’d always be there, wanting the best for him. He soothed her as she cried into their kiss, her breath coming in harsh intakes until she finally laid her head on his shoulder and went to pieces.
“I thought you were running away.” she said.
“No, I was just trying to take it all in. Jill, you—the baby—it all overwhelms me. I don’t want to screw it up.” He rocked them back and forth.
When she lifted her head, he brushed the wetness from her cheeks. “Then don’t,” she whispered, eyes shining, nearly destroying him.
Simpler words couldn’t hold more truth. “Right. Or like your grandpa told me, you work harder.” Arthur’s other words about forgiveness popped into his mind. “Jill, I need to know one more thing. Do you truly forgive me for leaving Dare the way I did when we were kids?”
Her smile dimmed for a second, making him wonder if she was ready. “Oh, what the heck? I’m in a good mood.” She launched herself at him again, locking her lips to his. “Speaking of the past, I heard Pete left town,” she whispered, reaching for a Kleenex in her navy jacket.
“Yes.” The reality hadn’t quite set in.
“He left his John Elway football for you at the coffee shop.”
For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He remembered the moment Pete had called him to tell him about his best Christmas present ever. They were eight at the time.
“He was here too,” she informed him. “He left Jemma’s favorite flowers.”
The Gerbera daisies looked like giant multi-colored lollipops all wrapped up from the candy store.
“I’ll teach our kid how to catch with it.” Brian traced the headstone, the angel in the center.
“That would be nice.”
She went into his arms as liquid as water. Fitted against him with a perfection that could only have been designed.
He tucked her collar up around her ears when the wind gusted. “So, about the baby…”
And he realized releasing the past meant creating space for the future.
***
Their hands found each other on her flat stomach. “We’re having a baby,” she announced like it still hadn’t sunk in.
“Yes. It’s rather a lot to take in. H
ave you gotten used to it?”
Her leg hopped in place with equal parts nerves and excitement. “Uh…I’m not as afraid, knowing you’re going to be with me, but I’m still scared shitless.”
“Me too,” he confessed, “but I’m getting happier. It’ll be a new adventure.”
“That’s an understatement. It complicates everything.”
A slow smile touched his mouth. “When haven’t we had complications?”
“You’re right. We’re the master of complications. It’ll be great!”
She rocked him. Then he picked her up and spun them around, making wet snow fly across the ground.
“We have to get back to the basics,” Jill declared. “Remember why we love each other.”
“I know why,” he uttered in a shaking voice, sparking a whole new crop of emotions inside her. “Because you’re home for me. That’s why I came back. It wasn’t Dare. It was you, Red.”
“I’m so happy about your restaurant.” She threw out their arms in a Victory formation. “You’re going to kick culinary ass, Bri. Make everyone who ever called you a mean name eat their words—literally.”
“Yep.” His grin made her own pop up like toast in a toaster. “And you’re an empire builder in the making, just like your grandfather.”
“It’s nice to be able to support each other’s dreams, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, tracing her cheek. “But know this. I’m planning on courting you a little longer, and then I’m gonna propose, Jillie. You have fair warning of my intention.”
“You’re not going to propose in a cemetery? Brian, you’re so unromantic,” she teased. The banter felt good, right.
He narrowed his eyes. Scanned the place. “Hmm…Jemma might like to see it. Maybe it’s not such a bad a place after all. That whole ‘death do us part’ would really ring true.”
She drilled a finger in his chest, hearing Jemma’s light-hearted laughter in her mind. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I do have something though. It’s not a ring—yet—so don’t freak out.” He pulled out the jewelry box and held it out.