“I saw the darkness for a while, Jess. I’m not gonna lie.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know.”
“It’s not so dark lately, though. I have you to thank for that.”
Her heart warmed, and a tingly sensation wound its way from her chest down to her belly. Sometimes she wished she didn’t have this visceral reaction to him, and other times she reveled in it. Today he’d made it clear that he wasn’t interested in anything serious, wasn’t looking to
have more children or a family. Where did that leave her? She wanted those things. Maybe not right this minute, but eventually. Hoping for him to change was a sure path to disappointment. This summer—these few weeks—were all they would have together. She wanted to cherish them, but to do so she had to remind herself that she could not fall in love with him, and she had to live in the moment.
Could she do that? Because if she couldn’t, she should walk away right now.
She looked up at him. He’d closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun that filtered through the leafy canopy.
As if he could sense her gaze, he said, “You should sketch. You know you want to.”
She did, so she leaned forward and retrieved her sketch pad. But it wasn’t flowers or trees or strangers that she drew. It was him, and the angle of his jaw, the crisp edges of his lips, his soft eyelashes, and the way his unruly hair touched his shoulders when his head was tipped back.
She wasn’t in love, but she wouldn’t lie and say her heart wasn’t involved. Of course it was. Her pencil moved quickly across the paper, then she reached for another with a softer lead. She wanted to capture the unguarded moment as best she could before he opened his eyes and caught her.
The sketch was rough but there was something in it she liked. It wasn’t perfect, but the sweeping strokes captured an urgency and energy that surprised her.
Bran opened his eyes, squinting and looking at her. She turned the page over and smiled up at him, hoping he hadn’t seen the sketch. She wanted it just for her.
She wanted to have something to remember him by when their time together was over.
As, of course, it would be.
CHAPTER NINE
HE TOOK HER to dinner at a seafood restaurant in the city’s downtown core. While she went for a seafood pasta, he ordered steak and an appetizer of mussels in a garlic cream sauce. Best of all was the history of the place, which had its beginnings as a school, then as a mortuary, particularly during the time of the Titanic sinking and a massive explosion that had leveled the north end during the First World War. Jess listened raptly as Bran told her what he knew of the place, and then grinned when he said it was haunted.
“Do you really believe in that stuff?” she asked, taking a sip of the fine semi-dry white she’d ordered.
“Of course I do. Don’t you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I think it’s possible. I just haven’t experienced anything that would, you know, make me really believe.”
After a moment of hesitation, she looked up at him. “Have you ever, you know, seen a ghost?”
He furrowed his brow and picked at his potato for a few moments. “No? I mean, not actually seen a ghost. But I’ve felt things that I can’t really explain.”
She held her breath as she asked, “You mean Jennie?”
He sighed and met her gaze, his eyes sad. “You know, at times I kind of wish Jennie would show up. I’d like to see her again. And then as soon as I think that, I realize that if she did, it’d scare me to death. I don’t know what I’d do. Or say.”
And make it harder to let go, Jess thought, but she kept the words locked inside.
They changed the subject and chatted over the magnificent dinner, and even though Jess was stuffed, she agreed to share a serving of lemon tart. It was after eight when they finished and made their way back to his car. It would be ten before they reached home, and just dark, as the days were long. Jess was determined now not to return to the maudlin subject of his wife; it had dampened the mood earlier and while she had no problem being an ear for his thoughts, twice during the day she’d felt as if there was a third person on their date. It seemed Bran was determined, too, because he’d reverted back to his easy manner as he opened the car door for her, and closed it solicitously before getting in on the driver’s side. Once behind the wheel, he hesitated, then reached for her hand.
“Thank you for allowing me to tag along today. It was nice, don’t you think?”
Yes, it had been nice. Despite the conversation getting heavy at times. She’d enjoyed his company, but something had been missing. So nice was a perfectly adequate word.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly. He hadn’t yet started the car, and the silence around them was heavy.
She shifted in her seat and looked over at him. “Did things get weird today? Are you having regrets?”
His eyes warmed. “No, I’m not. I’m sorry if I got moody. It’s just that...well, for a long time, that moodiness was a constant. Lately not so much.” He squeezed her fingers. “Lately I’ve found myself enjoying things. I forget to be sad. So when those moments creep in, I’m not ready for them.” He smiled a little. “I think it’s a good thing, really. Forgetting to be sad. Maybe someday I actually won’t be sad at all.”