“Jesus, Roman.” With my free hand, I twist awkwardly and swipe up my glass. I throw back my wine, relishing the gushing burn, and almost choke on it.
“I heard your mum visited High Grounds. So you know what I think? She’s somehow found out about my so-called movie career.”
“Please, don’t.”
“More than that, it seems to me that you’re in the middle of some sort of selfless act. I’m right, aren’t I? I know you were angry because I didn’t tell you about the job and the money, but you’re in the middle of refinancing, and I think you’re taking a loan out on your home to pay off your mother.”
“You don’t think much of her,” I say, refusing to meet his eyes.
“That wasn’t a denial. An act of selflessness is an act of love. You get that, right?”
“We can’t have this conversation.” He makes it sound so simple, but the fact is, Tina wouldn’t have the leverage if it wasn’t for the lies I’d told in the first place. The rest? Of course I love him, and I want to protect him. But that doesn’t mean I have to confirm it.
“Tough tits, because we’re having this conversation, so get over it because there’s worse to come. You see, when Wilder comes home tomorrow, I’m not going to be able to sit and tell him I’m leaving soon. Not when I’ve already told him I love you. Not when I’d confided in him that you and I have been married his whole life.”
“You did what?” I swing around to face him, not at all sure what I’m hearing. “When?” He makes a gesture with his hand as though my question is unimportant. “You can’t. He’d never hide that from me.”
“Prepare yourself because it gets worse.” He gives an unrepentant grin, the kind that dazzles when it should probably alarm. “As the number one man in your life, Wilder has given me permission to woo you.”
“Woo?”
He glances away, then back. “Is there an echo in here?”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means he remembers a movie you’d both watched. Made some mental notes, maybe for his own reference.”
“But Wilder isn’t interested in girls.”
“Shows what you know. Girls give him feelings,” he says meaningfully.
“He’s seven!” I protest, clutching for my invisible pearls. “Not my baby.”
“Not yet, at least,” he responds, shooting me one of those tiny, heart-breaking smiles he reserves for the mention of our son. “Girls make him angry. I think he gets that from you.” I angle my narrowed gaze his way and think about kicking him in the shin or something. “Anyway, he wanted me to get a big old boom box stereo and serenade you outside your bedroom window. Apparently, that’s the way the boy gets the girl. I didn’t have the heart to tell him you’d probably throw a bucket of water over my head. I can do a lot of things well, but singing isn’t one of them.”
I bark out a laugh, though I don’t mean to, then lean forward with a groan. Why does this have to be so hard? And so nice as my forehead rests against his forearm.
“Why didn’t you come to me, Kennedy?” His words are suddenly soft and serious as he presses his lips to my hair. “You don’t have to divorce me to protect me.”
My heart lifts in my ribcage, literally like it has strings. He thinks my mother’s blackmail is the reason for all this. Instead of just an added layer of bullshit.
“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper, screwing my eyes tight. “You were leaving anyway.”
“So you keep saying. But I’m not. For the first time in my life, I know what I want, and it’s not to be away from you or our boy.”
I feel the pressure of his finger under my chin, tipping my gaze to his. A shiver runs through me as our eyes meet, as he looks down at me like he’s really seeing me. Seeing my fear and my pain. It’s almost as though his blue gaze promises to take it all away.
If only . . .
His head angles a moment before his lips brush mine. I sigh, my lips melting into his. That tiny sound? I’m pretty sure that was my resolve just snapping. I’m not exactly sure how this has happened. All I know is I need him closer. Need the promise his touch brings as my fingers tighten on his biceps and slide through his hair.
“Little love,” he whispers huskily, twisting to face me. Then he laughs as I jerk and almost fall from the bar stool. His arms band around my back as he helps me back to my seat when what I want to do is crawl onto his knee. “I’ll always catch you.”
“That was . . .” My fingers brush my tingling lips.