Page 44 of Waiting to Love You

“You’re always beautiful.”

I swoon internally as I drop onto the couch. “You don’t have to lay it on so thick. You’ve already got the girl.”

“Do I?” he questions.

Seth and I haven’t exactly tried to label what we’re doing. Yes, we’ve had one date and have lunch together often, but I haven’t given him any hint about how much his being here in Tyson’s Creek means to me.

“Yes, you do,” I whisper, holding my breath.

I’ve laid almost everything on the line by uttering those three simple words. Seth has shown me time and time again that he’ll do anything to ensure things work out between us. It’s time that I put in a little effort, too.

“What questions do you have for me today?” I ask as I get a little more comfortable and turn the television on low, not wanting to put too much focus on my response.

“Favorite food,” Seth responds.

I hear something rustling in the background. Ever since he came back to town, he’s been asking me random questions about myself every time we see each other. We spend hours talking about nothing at all, and it means everything to me.

“Don’t laugh. Culver’s. I love the sourdough melt with extra pickles. If I’m having a particularly bad day, I get a chocolate milkshake to dip my fries in.”

“I had Culver’s for dinner tonight. Brady grabbed us some burgers, but I drew the line at dipping my fries in my milkshake. Potatoes and chocolate are two things that just do not go together,” Seth snickers.

“You’ll be eating your words after you try it once,” I mumble into the phone as I pick up the remote and begin flicking through the channels, landing on reruns of Golden Girls. “How about you?”

He pauses for a moment. “You.”

The deep timbre of his voice sends a shiver down my spine, making my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“Be serious.” I whimper as I rub my thighs together, attempting to gain some relief.

Seth and I haven’t spent much time alone together since the night he cooked me dinner, but not for lack of trying. We meet for lunch and get coffee before I open the studio whenever our schedules line up, but anything besides that has been hard. Between his schedule at the construction site and my work at the studio, it’s been next to impossible. But then I also have Rebekah to worry about. The girls have told me numerous that times they’d watch her whenever I asked, but they have lives and families of their own.

This would all be easier if you just told him about her.

Shut up, brain. No one asked you.

I’d love nothing more than to go back to the woman I was before our daughter was born. To be desired by someone as a woman, not as a source of nourishment and comfort. Now that Seth is back in my life, he has awakened a need I forgot I possessed.

“I am,” he insists.

“Real food,” I scold him as I push off the couch and head toward the kitchen. I need a cold drink of water and to steer the conversation back toward safer territory.

“I’m a sucker for Mrs. Thomas’s fish fry, but I do have a soft spot for Mexican food,” he replies.

“Well, you’re in luck. I make a mean chicken enchilada. Maybe if you’re a good boy, I’ll make them for you someday.” I instantly regret my word choice as Seth’s boisterous laugh rings through the phone.

“Do you really want me to be a good boy?”

“It depends on your definition of a good boy.” I fill my glass with water and gulp it down. I need to redirect this conversation. Now.

“What’s your favorite TV show?” I blurt out.

I plop back down on the couch as another episode of Golden Girls begins on the television. Memories of all the nights when Selina and I would discuss which Golden Girl we were in our teens fill my mind.

“I didn’t watch television much.” He lowers his voice slightly. “Being bounced around between foster homes didn’t leave much room for fun. I went to school, then to work when I was old enough, and then home to do my homework.”

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth and begin nibbling on it. Seth has told me about his life growing up in foster care after his parents died. My heart aches for him, realizing all the things I had in life and took for granted. I spent most of my teens angry at my dad for always being gone, resenting the time the military kept us apart, but mostly I missed him. I can’t imagine what it would be like if my parents were gone and I knew they were never coming back.

“I can hear the wheels turning in your head, Bri,” Seth chuckles.

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