Dallas digested that. The only real cheating she’d done, then, was all in her head. It made him want her even more. Loyalty like that was something no amount of money could buy—as he was fast learning.
“You seemed like you were having the time of your life at the wedding. I had no idea there was anything wrong,” he said. Maybe he should have. He couldn’t recall one serious conversation between them. He’d learned very little about her and she’d asked no real questions of him.
“Alayna’s my little sister and she was so happy. I didn’t want to ruin her day.”
He slapped an open palm to his chest. “You didn’t even tell your sisters you and your boyfriend broke up? What kind of cold, unfeeling monster are you?”
Hannah’s belly laugh teased the fine hairs on his skin. “Of course I told them. Just not right away.”
He debated whether or not to ask the four-point-whatever billion-dollar question.
“Would you take him back? Asking for a friend,” he added hastily, putting a lighter spin on it because he was afraid of scaring her off when they were still on shaky ground.
Hannah turned up the winding drive that led to the Endeavour. Other than the automatic lights along the front of the building, the main house was dark. Black windows gaped, a reminder that no one was home.
She drew up to the front door but didn’t turn off the engine. “Tim and I were together all through high school. We had our ups and downs, but I thought we’d be together forever. I had no idea he was having an affair. I didn’t see it coming. I’m sorry. The person you met at the wedding… That wasn’t me,” she repeated, in case he hadn’t gotten the message the first time she said it.
He disagreed. He thought it far more likely that she was only now beginning to figure herself out. She’d been betrayed by someone she trusted and had some grief to work through. He’d met her in the beginning, while she was still numb. At a guess, he’d say she’d progressed beyond anger and depression and was approaching the upward turn toward hope and recovery.
“Do you think you and I could start over? As friends, Hannah,” he added quietly, because she hadn’t answered his first question, so she wasn’t there yet.
“I’d like that,” she said.
The slight pause before she answered suggested she’d at least give it serious thought. Good enough for him.
“Great. I’ll pick up my car in the morning. By the way, don’t bother bringing your gaming system on Sunday. I’m going to buy one that’s geared toward nursing homes so all of the residents can benefit from it.”
He hopped out of the Jeep before she could protest how he’d insinuated himself into her visit with Marsh. He waved before turning to jog up the walk to the door.
*
Hannah
Hannah couldn’t sayfor sure how she’d gone from avoiding Dallas to spending Sunday afternoon with him, but she was so glad she did.
She’d been skeptical as to whether or not they could start over, especially as friends, but she appeared to be the only one having any difficulty with it, because Dallas lived in the moment. The past was over and done with. His future, an adventure yet to be lived.
And when he was with his patients, he gave them his whole attention. Seeing him interact with the nursing home residents was fun. There didn’t appear to be any deep, dark secrets where he was concerned.
Except one never knew.
“Oh, come on,” Dallas said. He gave Marsh a nudge with his elbow. “My grandma could do better than that and she’s legally blind.”
“Is she single?” Marsh asked.
“As if I’d let her date a cowboy.”
They were in the residents’ lounge in front of a mammoth TV monitor. Marsh, propped in a wheelchair, wore VR goggles. Dallas held a tablet on his knees and controlled the VR experience. The two of them were involved in a balloon popping war while three other residents watched their progress on the TV.
Dallas threw up his hands. “You cheated. There’s no other way you could beat me.”
Laughter wheezed out of Marsh’s thin frame. “You’re a poor sport, young man. And get a haircut.”
“I can’t.” Dallas ruffled a hand through his mass of tangled curls. Hazel eyes sparkled with humor. “My hairdresser isn’t speaking to me, anymore. Okay, it’s Bernice’s turn,” he announced, looking around. “Where is she?”
That was Hannah’s cue.
Bernice was a lovely, friendly woman in the later stages of Alzheimer’s disease and it took a significant amount of patience on Hannah’s part to convince her to keep the goggles in place.