Resisting the Bad Boy (19 page)
He gave her a small grin. “That’s good advice. Great advice, really. Thank you.”
She sat up taller, smiled a little brighter.
“Can I give
you
some advice now?” he ventured softly.
A startled, please look crossed her features. “Of course.”
“Let Brian and I call you ‘mom’ from now on.”
An instant rush of tears filled her eyes. “Do you think I deserve that?”
“I do. I think you deserve to let us love you.”
And now the tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I’d like that very much.”
He stood and they proceeded to have the world’s most awkward parent-child hug. He shrugged. “We’ll get better at it.”
She chuckled—each one starting to sound more natural on her. “I’ll be sure to practice the hugging with Skylar.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. And if she’ll let me, I’m thinking of asking her to call me ‘grandma.’”
“Good. That suits you as well.” He glanced at his watch, knowing that even the best advice had a window of time before its shelf life expired. If he was going to follow through on the one his mother had provided, he needed to head out now.
But before he did, he turned to his mother and asked, “This man, Henry, the one you’re in love with—is he a nice guy? Does he treat you well?”
Her smile was resplendent. “Yes. Very much so.”
“I’m glad. You deserve it.” Another thought occurred to him then. His father’s smug taunts from the other night. “Who’s your legal counsel for the divorce? I want to be sure you have the best if they’re going up against our firm.”
“I actually just changed legal counsel, since it was clear your father was going to pulverize the first one I’d retained.” She smiled. “My new attorney approached me to offer her help. Just last week, in fact.”
Really? That was unusual. “Is she any good? Because I’ll vet her for you. Get you a better lawyer if you need.”
“Oh, she’s good alright. And you won’t need to vet her. You know her very well.”
He thought about that for a second before smiling. “Victoria?”
“Mmm hmm.”
Connor tipped his head back and laughed until his face hurt.
His father didn’t stand a chance.
A
BBY ROLLED OVER
in bed and slid her hand over the cold sheets next to her.
So he left.
The tears came even though she’d told herself there wouldn’t be any this morning. Because she had no regrets about giving her love to Connor. Even if he couldn’t give him his in return.
But no amount of logic and enlightened self-awareness could stop the pain.
Nor should it. The grieving was important.
And so she grieved. Let the tears fall as she remembered everything about their last night together, a memory so painful in its perfection in the light of morning.
When the sound of the doorbell filtered through the sadness, she froze, afraid to allow herself to get swept away by the fantasy that it would be Connor standing there on her doorstep on day thirty-two. And yet wanting to, so much.
Holding her breath, she walked over and creaked the door open.
“Hey, sweetie. Can I come in?”
It wasn’t Connor.
She opened the door wide and let Brian pick her and squeeze her in his usual big, burly bear hug. Had it really been a month since she’d seen him?
“Hey stranger,” she choked back her disappointment over which brother’s arms were holding her, comforting her. “Why didn’t you and Skylar come over this past week? Or was three weeks without me enough to get me completely out of your system?” she queried, her attempt at humor falling just a bit flat.
“No. Just the opposite, actually,” he said quietly. “But we stayed away to give you your space.”
She blinked and felt her already wobbly smile completely crumble away. “Connor told you, didn’t he? He sent you over here?”
“Yes.”
She quickly disentangled himself from his hug, which was now cloaked with sympathy. “What did he say?”
“A lot,” he evaded, and slid a thumb over the new tear sliding down her cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’ll be okay.”
So saying, he pulled out a small, giftwrapped box from his back pocket and handed it to her.
She melted. Brian was so good to her, such a good friend. She didn’t know what her life would be without him.
“Open it.”
She slid her fingers under the seams of the wrapping paper carefully—seeing as how this was the first time he’d actually wrapped a present for her, she wanted to savor it.
When she peered into the box and saw the beautifully framed photo inside, she shook her head in amazement at his thoughtfulness. The photo was her favorite from the day she’d gone with him and Skylar up to the lakes earlier this summer. Just the thing she needed to cheer her up. “As always, you’re a mind reader. I love this photo. I actually just lost the copy I keep in my wallet.”
“I believe that
is
the copy you keep in your wallet.”
“What?”
Instead of explaining further, he just handed her a slip of paper.
Okay
. Connor was right, Brian did have a flair for the dramatics.
She flipped open the note. And felt her heart turn right over.
Abby,
Get out your magic decoder ring. You’ll need it for the gift, too.
--Connor
She whipped her head back up. “These are both from Connor?”
He nodded.
A dizzying surge of hope flooded through her veins, rushed straight over to her heart as she called back the memory of what he’d told her once, but replayed it now with its heart achingly wonderful new meaning:
If I leave a note, then it’s like leaving the hope that this isn’t really goodbye for good…if I send a gift, hell, that’s the same as saying I’ll be back someday so don’t ever forget me.
No, she wouldn’t need the magic decoder ring to figure out the note or the gift—what he thought he was giving her by this ridiculously romantic, misguidedly selfless act.
She blew out an exasperated breath, unsure whether to swoon, or cry, or drive right over to his house and slap him upside the head.
“What’s wrong?”
Startled, she looked up, forgetting Brian was there for a moment. “Your brother. He’s what’s wrong. Or rather, he
is
wrong.”
“About what?”
Holding the note in one hand and the photo in the other, she gestured in frustration. “This. He’s doing all this, trying to be ‘the good man’ over something that isn’t even what he’s made it out to be. This right here.” She stared at the photo. “He obviously thinks you and I are something that we’re not, something he insists on believing is better for me than what he and I have.” Gazing at the note again, she sighed, “He’s built up this whole idea about you and me in his head, and he’s not going to come back until I convince him he’s wrong.”
Brian reached out and slid a warm hand over her cheek. “What if he’s not wrong? What if it isn’t all in his head
?
”
END OF BOOK ONE
BOOK TWO:
FALLING FOR THE GOOD GUY
COMING MAY 2013
A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR
Violet Duke is the pen name of Nina Nakayama, lovingly chosen in honor of her two whacky children. Once a professor of English Education, Nina is ecstatic to now be on the other side of the page, writing wickedly fun contemporary romance novels while her muse alternates between perching on her left and right shoulder (usually left). When she’s not catering to the whims of her story characters or feeding her book-a-day reading addiction, she enjoys randomly rearranging the furniture in her home or tackling reno projects with her power tools while trying pretty much anything without reading the directions first and cooking ‘special edition’ dishes that laugh in the face of recipes. Nina lives in Hawai‘i with her two cute kids and similarly adorable husband.
Get to know more about Nina and her other books at:
http://www.violetduke.com
