by Donna Alward
He sat back in the chair and replayed that morning in his mind. He’d been such an ass. Handled things all wrong just because seeing the pregnancy test box had scared him out of his wits. He’d known they had to break it off, but not like that. He’d wanted to explain that she deserved so much more. That she was wonderful and needed someone who could give her all of himself. Give her the family she wanted. And Lord, not ask her to take on so much baggage. Instead, he’d jumped down her throat and it had just been...awful.
He regretted that more than anything. That their beautiful friendship had ended with harsh words and hurt feelings. It seemed their relationship deserved a better ending.
His phone vibrated in his hand, and he looked at the screen. Jess had replied.
Oh, no! Is she okay? I’ll call Tori. She must be so distressed.
There was a pause, and then another quick message.
I appreciate you telling me, Bran.
He didn’t know what to say after that. Anything would either be too much or not enough. He tucked the phone back in his pocket and sat for a long time, replaying old thoughts in his head. Some made sense but others...others did not. What did that mean for his future? Could he truly go through life with a couple of friends and a laptop for company?
He’d missed her every single day.
Eventually he made his way back to the unit. Tori was leaned against Jeremy’s shoulder, her eyes closed and breathing deep.
“I’ll go so she can rest.”
“Stay a minute. She’ll sleep for a while now. The tea helped her relax.”
They kept their voices low, and Jeremy adjusted a little so that the angle of Tori’s neck was a little gentler. Then he looked up at Bran. “You and Jess. What happened?”
Bran swallowed. Thought about how happy he’d been just to see her impersonal text minutes earlier. “I wasn’t ready. And she had a pregnancy scare.”
“Oh, man. That sent you running for the hills, huh.”
“Considering the current situation, I’m not sure you want to talk about Owen.”
Jeremy nodded slowly, but then met Bran’s eyes. “I’m a wreck, it’s true. That little girl...and her mother...they changed my life. I can’t imagine...no, that’s not true. I can imagine, and it scares me to death. So I think I understand. Yours isn’t just imagination. You’ve lived through it and would rather do anything than go through it again.”
That Jeremy understood so completely came as a relief. “Yeah. There’s just one problem, Jer.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m in love with her.”
Jeremy let out a huge breath. “Well, doesn’t that make the cheese more binding.”
They both laughed a little.
“I couldn’t admit it when she was here. I mean it when I say I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t over Jennie. I don’t know if I’ll ever be over Jennie. How is that fair?”
Jeremy frowned. “I’m not sure this is ever anything you are ‘over.’ I think it’s a decision to leave it in the past, and be brave enough to embrace a future. It’s a big thing.”
“It’s a huge thing. She wants a family, Jer. And she should have one. You’ve seen her with Rose. She loves that little girl. She should have babies of her own if that’s what she wants. And I just don’t know.”
“All love carries risks.”
“I know.”
“And rewards. But only you can decide where that balance lies. If being without her is easier than taking the risk, then you know letting her go was the right thing.”
“But if it’s not?”
Jeremy shrugged. “You have to sort that out on your own. All I’m going to say is that I loved Jennie, but Jess had a way of making you smile that was just...different. There’s no question in my mind that she fell in love with you.”
Tori shifted and he moved with her, smoothing her hair off her face while she slept on. Bran marveled at the tenderness he saw in his friend’s expression.
“Love changes a person, you know?” Jeremy looked away from his wife’s face and smiled. “It made me a better man. It made me want things I didn’t feel worthy of asking, but somehow...she makes it right. You found it once, Bran. If you are lucky enough to have found it a second time, think long and hard before letting it slip away.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JESS HAD NEVER been so glad for air-conditioning in her life.
Chicago was stifling. A late July heat wave was making things miserable, and she cringed to think of her power bill with how much her AC was running, but at least she was comfortable. Most of the time.
Living alone had never been this difficult. Ana had been the one to move into the loft with her, taking the second bedroom and bringing her boundless energy and kindness with her. After she’d gone, it had been hard to live in the apartment without hearing Ana’s voice, singing in the shower, or the way she’d stay up on Saturdays watching old movies.
But this loneliness was different. Because it wasn’t the loft that was quiet and lonely, it was her whole life. It was like taking one of her paintings and suddenly only seeing it in black and white. There was a vibrancy missing that she knew had one cause: Bran.
She missed him. It seemed impossible; they’d been together such a short time. But time didn’t matter. What was time, anyway? Measurable in months, days, hours, minutes...and yet it moved slowly and quickly. Her time in Nova Scotia had been too short, and now her days were too long. And yet the clock ticked on at the same pace.
So she worked. She buried herself in it, putting all her feelings and thoughts and longings and regrets on canvas. It was the neglected door and the determined daisies, the lighthouse strong and sure, and the waves and wind that battered it relentlessly. It was a long, white beach that stretched on forever, and a man standing on a bluff overlooking the ocean, lost.
Her agent had seen most of what she’d done and raved over it. Jess had come away from the meeting glad he was happy, but personally caring little about the commercial appeal of it and more concerned with the process.
The only thing she could think to do was paint him out of her heart. So far she wasn’t succeeding.
Had she been wrong to leave? Should she have given him more time? Maybe. Though in her heart she knew staying would have just prolonged the inevitable.
A quick glance at the clock on the microwave showed just after one o’clock, so she decided it was as good a time as any for a break. She turned on the kettle to make coffee. She’d picked up some bagels at the market a few days ago, so she popped one in the toaster. A bagel with cream cheese would suffice for lunch.
The kettle had just boiled and she’d poured the water into the press when a knock sounded at the door.
She frowned. A courier, maybe? She certainly wasn’t expecting anyone. She padded to the door in her bare feet and peeked through the hole to see who was there.
Bran.
Her paint-stained fingers flew to her mouth. What was he doing here? Her first thought was that something had happened to Rose. Oh, God, she hoped not. But would he fly all the way here to deliver that news?
The only other option was that he was here for her. And that was...unbelievable. Considering how they’d left things.
She opened the door, curiosity getting the better of her.
His gaze swept over her, top to bottom to top again, and a smile bloomed on his face. “You look wonderful,” he said. His voice held a note of reverence that touched her deeply, and she bit down on her lip. And in the next moment she was in his arms, in the middle of the biggest bear hug she could ever remember.
It was a shock and confusing as heck, but she went with it, because it was so damned good to see him again and hold him close. The scent that was uniquely Bran—soap and aftershave and sea air. How could he smell like the sea after sitting on a plane?
“You feel so good,�
� he said close to her ear, sending shivers down her body. “God, I’ve missed you.”
He loosened his hold and she leaned back so she could see his face, trying not to be so glad to see him. “What are you doing here? Is Rose okay?” He’d cut his hair, she noticed. Not super short, but the shaggy locks were tamed and his beard was precisely trimmed. It was sexy as anything.
“That little bean is just about perfect. She’s very close to rolling over.”
Oh, bless him. He called Rose a little bean. Why did he have to be so...everything?
She wilted in relief. “Okay, good. Because I thought for a minute you’d come to tell me that...” She hesitated. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t bring stuff like that up.”
“No, it’s okay. She was really sick, but she’s okay now. Full recovery. And that’s not why I’m here. But maybe we could go inside and close the door? It’s hot as blazes out here, and you’re letting all your lovely cool air out.”
He wasn’t wrong, so she stepped back and once they were clear of the threshold, shut the door. It was a relief to be out of the midday heat.
“Do you want coffee? I just made some. It’s likely to be strong now. I poured the water in my press the moment you knocked.”
“Coffee sounds great.”
She led the way to the kitchen, which was about a quarter of the size of the one in his house and still held a small dining set. Heart pounding, fingers trembling, she got two mugs out of the cabinet and then pushed down the plunger in the press, pouring strong brew in each cup.
She looked up at him. “There’s milk in the fridge.”
His gaze held hers. Coffee and milk had been the catalyst on that last fateful day. But now he calmly went to the refrigerator, took out a carton of milk put it on the counter.
“I’m sorry, Jess. For all the things I said that day.”
“Me, too. I mean... I knew we had to end, but that wasn’t how I wanted it to happen.”
“Do you think it ever would have been parting with a kiss and a fond farewell and a ‘thanks for the memories’?” he asked. He came a step closer. “Because I think it was always going to be messy. I’m not sure it can be avoided when two people love each other.”
She was holding out his mug for him to take when he said those words, and suddenly she couldn’t move. Her hand started to shake. He reached out and took the mug and then set it down on the table.
“You heard me right. You said you loved me that day, and I did not. I didn’t think I could. I thought it was impossible. But the truth is, I was already in love with you and too scared to admit it to myself. It was easier to say I’d never love anyone again. There was protection in it.”
“You weren’t ready. I knew that. It’s why I had to go.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know.”
This wasn’t happening. He wasn’t here, in her kitchen, saying all these wonderful things. Panic threaded through her veins. She’d thought she’d known what she wanted. But it turned out she didn’t know anything. Oh, how smug she’d been.
“What changed?” she asked, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of her voice.
“Rose. And Jeremy. And me being a lonely, grumpy man whose closest relationship is with his laptop. And I wouldn’t even have that if it weren’t for you.” He took her hand. “Come, sit. Let me explain, and then you can decide what you want to do with me.”
Oh, she knew what she wanted to do with him. That hadn’t changed. But this was about more than their physical compatibility. It always had been.
He held her hand as she across from him. “When Rose got sick, Jeremy came for me. He was a wreck. He’s my best friend. Of course I was going to be there for him. And walking into that hospital made me face a lot of things. But it also helped me realize that I’ve healed a lot. Jennie and Owen—they’re a part of my past that will always be in my heart. But I can’t keep living there. It’s not living at all, and after I met you, I discovered I actually do want to live again.”
“Oh, Bran...”
“And then Jeremy gave me a bit of a talking-to. And I’ve been thinking for a while now about what I want my life to look like. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t much care, as long as you’re in it.”
Tears threatened to spill over. “You really mean that.”
“I do.” He squeezed her fingers. “Loving again terrifies me, I’m not gonna lie. But being without you scares me more. I never thought I’d ever find this again. That there’d be someone I couldn’t live without.” He hesitated a moment, licked his lips and then said, “You told me once that the people that you loved had all left you. When I remembered that, I realized why you sent me away that day. You walked away first so I wouldn’t, didn’t you?”
The tears did spill over then. It was the secret wound she’d only ever shared with two people—him and Ana. And Ana was gone now. She nodded. “I suppose I did.” She sniffled and wiped her fingers over her cheeks. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry.”
“It’s okay. I hurt you. We hurt each other because we were scared. I’m still scared, Jess. But I’m here. And I’m staying, if you’ll have me.”
Silence fell in the tiny kitchen. “What do you mean, staying?”
He reached out and cupped her cheek tenderly. “I mean, you get to decide. You have a life here. I can write anywhere. I have a place in New York and the house in Nova Scotia and wherever you want to be, that’s where we’ll go. All I need is an internet connection, a supply of coffee and you.”
He was offering her everything. She loved this loft, but she loved a lot of things. And there was still one thing they hadn’t talked about. A very big, very important thing.
“What about children?”
He met her gaze evenly. “I miss being a father. It’s going to scare me to death, but, yes. Yes, to a family. I look at Jeremy and Tori, and it’s something that’s missing in my heart. I’ll always have a spot for Owen. But I won’t love our babies any less, Jess.”
Now he really was giving her everything. She stood and went over to him, sitting on his knees, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she started to cry for real. He was here. He loved her. He wanted babies. And Bran...she knew in the deepest parts of her heart and soul that he was not the kind of man to leave once he’d promised to stay. Not if he had any choice in the matter. And life didn’t have guarantees, did it?
But it certainly had wishes and dreams come true.
“Do you know what I want the most?” she said, holding him close.
“What?”
“I want to go home.”
EPILOGUE
THE CHICAGO AIR had lost the summer heat, and the breeze was now cool and brisk in the first week of November. Bran held Jess’s hand as they entered the gallery, and then gave her a kiss as Jack rushed over and took her away to do artisty things. Bran knew the drill; he’d done the same during signings and events, and he was thrilled to see Jess enjoying so much success.
She was so beautiful tonight, in a long black dress that hugged her curves and her hair up in the topknot he’d come to love so much. Her freckles were hidden by makeup, and her lips were a pretty shade of pink. She’d told him, back in the hotel room, that she’d forbidden the esthetician from using false eyelashes. He’d laughed and kissed her, nearly ruining the careful makeup job.
There’d be time enough for that later.
Instead, he accepted a rare glass of champagne and took his time wandering through the gallery. The collection was small but beautiful; he was so stinkin’ proud of what she’d accomplished. And these paintings would always be special to him. It was like a visual diary of how he’d fallen in love with Jess. Or as she was known tonight, the Jessica Blundon.
There were three paintings in black and white that he thought were stunning. One was of the reflectors of the lighthouse lamp, and so very different from her other wo
rks. A second one was a fishing boat, tied to a dock. And the third made him catch his breath. It was him. Standing on the bluff by the lighthouse, looking out over a rough sea. He looked so...lonely. Bereft. He understood why she’d done it in black and white.
An arm slid through his, and she pressed up against him. “Hello, handsome.”
“Hello, famous artist. This one...wow, Jess.”
“I took a pic of that the first day, when you kicked me off the property,” she said softly. “Something about you just drew me in. I never believed you were an angry old troll.”
He snorted and laughed, and looked down at her. She shared an impish smile with him that made him warm all over.
The last months had been nothing short of amazing. Jess had gone back to Nova Scotia with him, staying at his house, and he’d turned the lighthouse into a studio for her. He’d finished the draft of his book, and they were making a stop in New York on the way home so he could meet with his agent and editor. He’d sold his brownstone there that he’d shared with Jennie, and that had been hard, but Jeremy was going to hook them up with a new property that was just for them.
Life was moving forward, and he was happy.
Unlike the man in the painting. But instead of being sad, it made him realize how far he’d come, thanks to the love of the wonderful woman at his side.
“Come with me for a moment,” she said, removing her arm from his and reaching for his hand instead. “There’s something I want you to see.”
She led him to the other side of the gallery, where a lone painting was displayed. He stopped and stared. It was the same painting—with him on the bluff—but it was in full color, rich and vibrant. The sea wasn’t angry; the waves were joyous and playful, and the grass and flowers waved in bright sunlight next to a pristine white lighthouse. Before and after.
But what truly made it different was that he wasn’t alone in this one. A woman was beside him. She was beside him, in a flowy dress and her hair up and...
And in between them was a small child, holding on to their hands.