Page 20 of Coming Home

She arched an eyebrow. “Dating thewrongmen? You remember I dated you, right?”

“I said men. I was a boy then. I’m not a boy anymore.”

Her lips curved up. “So, this is a date and not just old friends catching up?”

“Correct.” He closed his menu. “I’m not going to be coy with you. I’d like to date you. I won’t pretend that I haven’t checked up on you via social media a few times over the years and thought about reaching out. When I saw you Saturday, I knew it was my chance to do what I should have done a long time ago.”

“Ask me to dinner?” An uncomfortable laugh whooshed out.

“Win you back.”

Her forehead creased.Win me back?What did that mean? “I’m not a prize or a trophy,” she said in a clipped voice.

“I know.” He reached across the table, brushing his fingers over her hand. “Although, being with you did make me feel like I’d won every trophy.”

Gooseflesh bloomed with each soft stroke across her skin.

“I was a dumb kid when we dated. You were right to break up with me.”

Nat’s face pinched with remorse. Awkward regret twinged with the memory of his stricken face and croaked, “Okay,” when she’d whispered, “I think we should break up.” Not because she broke up with him but for the impact on him. Despite her reasons, she always regretted hurting him.

“It was just all too much then. Evan had just died. My family was…” A dull ache choked off her words.

Moving her hand away from his, she unwrapped the silverware and unrolled the cloth napkin. The action anchored her in the here and now. Reminding her that she was ten years away from that night, even if the pain sometimes felt like it was right now. Like a thief,thatnight crawled into the room and replaced the muffled chatter of other patrons, the clank of dishes, and the soft instrumental music. The voices from that night echoed in her heart.

You’re making a mistake.

We’re sorry, Dr. and Mrs. Owens.

Not my son!

I’ve got you, Nat, I’m coming.

She pushed the echoing voices of that night down…deep down.

“Hey.” Duncan uncoiled her fingers from the napkin, wrapping his warm hand around hers. “It was a tough time for you. I didn’t understand then. I was a selfish asshole only thinking about why my girlfriend didn’t want to spend time with me. I didn’t consider what you were going through. I can’t change the past, but I am sorry I wasn’t who I should have been. Who you needed then.”

“Thank you.” Her voice wobbled.

It wasn’t just him. She’d pulled away from him then, and she knew that. Everything had changed when Evan died. She’d changed. She wasn’t the girl he first asked out. He deserved that girl and she couldn’t…or wouldn’t be her ever again.

“We were both kids, and neither of us knew how to navigate what was happening,” she offered.

“We’re not kids anymore.” He squeezed her hand, his lips flexed into a soft grin.

Her eyes met his. The searching gaze of a slightly clumsy boy had been replaced by the confident certainty of a man.

“Hello, folks. Do you know what you’d like?” the server asked, interrupting them.

“I do.” Duncan’s eyes almost smoldered as he gazed at her.

Am I on the menu?Her mouth went dryer than the Sahara.

Crisp pear cider bathed her bloodstream in a fizzy happiness while Duncan filled in the blanks of the last ten years between sips of scotch. After they broke up, she did the very mature thing of unfriending and unfollowing him on social media. So much of the last decade of his life was an untouched piece of plain paper.

He had fewer questions and more knowing statements about her life. Unlike her, he followed her on Instagram. Followers were something she never paid attention to, so she had no idea he knew about her many,manyposts about crafty activities, dishes eaten at restaurants, and endless snapshots of Fitz and Lizzie.

“I see from Instagram that you do a lot of crafting projects,” Duncan said, wiping his mouth.

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