Page 60 of Everlasting Promises

If this is all she’ll ever give me, I’ve decided it’ll be enough. My rational mind says:what the fuck, man? But my affection for her doesn’t come from a rational place. Our gazes lock for a moment, and this close, her warm breath coats my chin.

She licks her lips again, and my eyes drop to watch. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she murmurs.

Evan hustles past us with Rex, but doesn’t bat an eye at our closeness, as if he’s seen us standing together in an embrace before.

“Smells delicious.”

She drops her gaze from mine, curls her hands into fists, and pushes away from me. When she spins toward the kitchen, my body deflates and I follow behind, my eyes dropping to her cute ass that’s wrapped in denim. She’s ditched the boots and replaced them with over-the-knee socks—like the ones she was wearing the night I turned up on her doorstep at midnight.

One day, I wouldn’t mind having her legs resting over my shoulders while sheonlywears those socks. Never in my life would I have thought I’d find long socks sexy, but on her …damn.

When I breach the kitchen door, I come to a stop. Rex’s bowls are in the same place they were the other weekend, already filled with food and water for him, like he’s part of the family. The table is set for three, and a salad is already sitting in the middle of the table. The Shepherd’s pie is resting on the stove, and the countertops are free of mess.

She’s worked hard since coming home from soccer practice, and it hits me … she probably always works too hard. She’s holding down a full-time job, running a household, and raising her son alone.

She doesn’tneeda man or anyone else in her life because she already has everything covered. But I’d bet there are times when she’d love to take a break. To kick back and just breathe. To take some time for herself. To be cared for instead of being the one to always do the caring.

She’ll neverneedme. But I’d love for her towantme one day. To allow me the privilege of being the one to care for her and Evan.

I place the store-bought brownie on the counter, along with the bottle of wine. “How about you take a seat, and Evan and I will serve dinner?” I lead her to the dining room and pull out the chair at the head of the table.

“Oh, this is your seat,” she tells me, that distinctive flush I love so much rising up her slender throat.

Words escape me.

She sat me at the head of the table. Growing up, that spot was designated to the man of the house. It would have been where Wyatt sat when he was home, and warmth fills my body that she would even consider giving me the honor.

I shake my head. “You’rethe head of this household. You should sit there, Hope.”

She swallows and shakes her head a little. “I-I-I can’t sit there.”

I nod. “Which seat is yours then, Cookie?”

She points to the seat on the left, so I pull the chair out, and she sits. I guess that means Evan’s on the opposite side. I move the table setting from the head of the table to the seat beside Hope. She studies me closely, but I ignore the questions in her eyes. I want to show her I want to be here alongside her and Evan. That I’m not here toreplaceher husband.

“Evan, can you pour yourself a drink, please?” I walk around the counter to serve the pie, placing a portion on each plate. I hold a plate out for Evan to take. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks, Ben.” He takes a sip of his drink, then carries his glass and plate to the table. I follow him with our plates, then grab two wine glasses and the bottle I brought with me.

Holding it up to Hope, I ask, “Wine?”

She holds up her glass with a small smile. “Please.”

While I pour, I ask Evan, “So how do you think practice went this afternoon?”

He swallows the food in his mouth. “Pretty good, I think. Maybe next time, bring a whistle.”

I nod, then pour wine into my glass. “Good idea. It’ll save my voice.” I hold my glass up to Hope, and she taps hers against mine. Dipping my head, I say, “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

The first mouthful of the meal Hope prepared is divine as the flavors of meat and potato burst across my tongue. She certainly knows how to cook. Every meal I’ve had here has been delicious. “This tastes fantastic. Thanks for inviting me to dinner.”

Hope adjusts her position. “Thanks, and you’re welcome,” she says without looking at me.

Her mood’s changed since she first said hello and we shared our moment in the hallway. She’s grown somber and distant. She’s rebuilt her walls, denying the friendship we’re building. I’m not gonna lie to myself and say I’m not disappointed, because I am, but this is to be expected. If I want a chance with her, I need to bide my time and show her there’s a life beyond the grief she’s been drowning in.

Even though I’m aware of every single movement she makes, every breath she takes, each bite of food she swallows, I turn my attention to Evan. “How was school today?”

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