Page 28 of No Broken Promises

Clearly, he and the waitress can see something I can’t.

“I don’t get it.”

Benton waits with a smile on his face, giving the waitress a little wave, and she practically bolts in the other direction.

“There’s a man at the bar who sent it over,” Benton explains when I still don’t pick up on the clue.

“That’s impossible.” I lean over, trying to get a look, but I can’t see anything. “I don’t know any men except my brother-in-law, and he wouldn’t send me a bitch drink.” I am not joking in the slightest, but Benton starts laughing his ass off at my statement.

“You’re a funny woman, Parker.”

I watch as he leans forward and plucks the celery from my drink, then waves it in the air toward whoever is at the bar.

I find myself apologizing a few moments later when things grow awkward. “I’m sorry someone did that. I have no clue who it would be.”

Benton waves it off with another laugh. “Please.” He snorts. “You’re gorgeous. If I’d been in that guy’s position, who’s to say I wouldn’t have done the same thing?”

Fuck if I don’t blush from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes with that compliment.

“For real, though.” Benton goes on when we finish ordering dinner and are waiting on the appetizers. “Why are you single? Rose said you’ve got a five-year-old, and she proceeded to show me a hundred pictures of him. But I don’t think that’s it. There’s a reason, and I’m curious about it. Do you want to stay single or did you have a rough breakup?”

I open my mouth to ask him why it is any of his business and why I need to answer his question, but then shut it again. Going on the defensive has been my default for so long that I don’t know how to tell if he is being genuine or just plain nosy.

“I only ask because I don’t want to assume you want a relationship if you don’t.” Benton crosses his hands on the table in front of him but doesn’t twitch or fiddle his fingers at all. “I’m both a lawyer and a teacher for the criminal justice academy, after all, so part of my job is to overthink everything.”

With a small swallow to clear my throat, I muster every bit of strength possible and share my darkness. “My husband died five years ago, overseas.”

Every muscle in Benton’s face freezes. If I didn’t see his chest move slightly, I’d think that he stopped breathing. His eyes take on a hard glint, and I find myself pretty sure that he’ll get up from the table and walk away without saying another word.

Instead, he does something that completely shocks me to my core.

He stands up, picks up his chair, and moves to my side of the table so that we are sitting right next to each other. My limbs, which were frozen only a second before in fear, are now shaking in trepidation. My shoulders are tight while I try to control the movement, but I fail miserably. Biting the inside of my cheek doesn’t seem to help either, and I count the seconds before Benton says anything.

Finally, he does. “I lost friends overseas. Hell, I almost lost myself over there. I didn’t realize that you were that Parker Hayes.” His low voice rolls over my skin and should have offered comfort. Instead, I am left with all of the emptiness that has occupied and consumed my soul for the last five years, stripped of all the emotions I should be feeling.

“Benton, I think I’m going to head home. I’m so sorry to cut this short. It’s just, I don’t know if I’m not ready or if you’re not the one for me. There’s just… not that sort of feeling here.”

There. Complete honesty.

Benton’s eyebrows lower in confusion for a half a second, his lips pulling into a frown, and his eyebrow twitches. Almost like he is trying to figure out if I am playing a game.

“No problem, Parker,” he finally decides to answer. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone be that honest with me before the appetizers even make it out. Do you want to hang around, as friends?”

His smile, so perfect and affable, sets my mind at ease.

“Absolutely. I could always use a friend.”

Just like that, the entire mood shifts. There isn’t an awkward pull in the air. I can breathe, and I am not worried that I’ll say the wrong thing or reference something that might be five years out of date.

The perfect gentleman, I am not surprised when he holds out a hand and pulls my chair back as I stand up once we are done eating.

Here, with him, I can almost see another chance at happiness.

Yet, when I see Benton standing patiently in front of the restaurant, his eyes shining in the night sky, I don’t feel an ounce of chemistry. Not the kind I should, especially with how attractive and attentive he is.

“Well, that was awkward at first,” he says with a small laugh. “But I get it. Thank you for tonight, Parker.”

“Thank you for being okay with just being friends, Benton.” I smile up at him, and I really wish I felt something more for him.

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