Kinsley took a deep cleansing breath and let it out. “I decided last night if that was his choice, I don’t want to be an option. I’m not going to consider myself second best to her.”
Huh. Grandma was right. Again. Kinsley was stronger than we gave her credit for.
Ariana and I rushed our sister and wrapped her in our arms.
“I thought you said there was nothing going on between you and Brant,” Ariana teased.
“There really wasn’t. There couldn’t be,” Kinsley said, muffled between us. “Still . . . I wanted there to be. But he made his choice.”
Yes, dear Kinsley, we all made choices. I’m so, so sorry for mine. Brant and I never meant to hurt you.Chapter Fifteen“Aren’t they the cutest couple?” Ariana whispered in my ear.
I was standing in the kitchen, staring for an unnaturally long time at our dinner guests, Aspen and Miles Wickham. I couldn’t help it, though. The way the debonair Brit always kept his hand on his wife’s burgeoning belly was mesmerizing. He had even kissed it once while they conversed with Jonah, Brock, and Tristan, Miles’s editor who was here visiting from London. With the help of Miles, we had kind of set up Tristan and Kinsley, unbeknownst to her. Anyway, I was in awe and so jealous of Aspen and Miles. I wanted what they had so desperately. What must it be like to have a man love you and your baby so much?
“They really are.” I tore my eyes away and focused back on dinner. Thank goodness for Kinsley and Ariana. I wasn’t blessed with the good-cook gene. Kinsley had made her to-die-for lasagna and homemade breadsticks. Ariana had brought Caesar salad. Me? I bought a beautiful chocolate cake from a bakery in Pine Falls on my way home from work. I was domestic like that.
Kinsley slid between us. “Are you trying to set me up?”
Ariana bit her lip. “With whom?” she played coy.
Kinsley narrowed her eyes at us. “With the gorgeous Brit.” She pointed covertly at the attractive man swirling his glass of chardonnay and laughing near the lit gas fireplace. He had the boyish charm of a younger Hugh Grant, with his messy chestnut hair and lively blue eyes. I would say he was around my age, so about five years older than Kinsley.
“You sound like you might be interested,” I threw in.
Kinsley smacked my arm. “I don’t need you to set me up on pity dates.”
“Does he look pitiful?” I countered.
Kinsley smirked. “Not at all. But still. I can get my own dates.”
“We know that. You’re a beautiful woman. We just thought a little hot foreign fling might cheer you up.” Ariana nudged Kinsley.
Kinsley rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you two, but . . . if I have to sit next to him during dinner, I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad.”
We all laughed.
Brock popped into the sexy, sleek, state-of-the-art kitchen with black steel appliances and steel countertops. Kinsley didn’t find it very functional since it was quite narrow, but it looked pretty.
“Do you need any help?” he asked me.
“Would you mind taking the lasagna to the table?”
“Sure thing.” He kissed my lips, putting on a good show for all our guests, before carefully picking up the lasagna with some hot pads.
Once Brock was out of earshot, Ariana quietly commented, “Looks like you two are figuring it out. You both seem happier.”
I was glad everyone thought so. Things were better between us, as in we were such good actors, we kept up the act even when no one was around. It made it easier when we were in public. We were kind of like an old married couple who had settled into a routine. Most nights we ate a quiet dinner together and talked about our days, mostly work related. Since he was only working part time, some of his days were spent at Holland Industries or working in his dad’s workshop. Apparently, he was making my Christmas present. Which was probably more for show than anything. Once dinner was over and we cleaned up, we would retire to the couch, where I would catch up on emails and he would read. When it was time to go to bed, he would chastely kiss me. No parting of lips, no lingering, only a peck. Somehow, we had come to an unspoken agreement between us that we would never have a physical relationship.
“Yeah, we are,” I responded. We were figuring out how to live half a life. I wondered how long it could go on before my soul died. Pretend love was worse than no love. However, I was buying time. I had started training Erin on every aspect of Children to Love, and I had decided to use the credit card Brock gave me for any of my expenses. I had been hesitant when he’d offered, but then decided to use it so I could save every bit of my meager salary just in case I had to disappear. I had also been studying up on remote areas in foreign countries, somewhere Edward and John wouldn’t be able to find me. I couldn’t believe I was thinking like this. Though what choice did I have? Eventually, things would go sour between Brock and me. I didn’t see Brock living in a loveless marriage for eternity. I didn’t see him loving my baby.