Page 31 of Vows in Sin
“Funny. But jokes won’t get you off the hook.” I lift my brows in demand. “Back to the cheese.”
He changes the subject, hooking me with, “I used to draw.”
“You did?” I place the food back on the plate, wiping my fingers and mouth with a napkin. “Tell me more.”
A stroke of his beard later, and he’s ready to share. “Nothing fancy, just pencil to paper. I like to draw people. Faces. Try to capture their expressions and personality with only two simple tools. It’s a challenge.”
“Who was your favorite muse?” I ask.
“My ex-wife.” He looks at me, weighing my reaction.
I’m not a jealous girl. Way more of a curious one. I want to know everything about the woman who got this man to put a ring on it. “Tell me about her.”
And he does. He tells me how they met, her quirks, and what he loved about her. He doesn’t say if they had children or pets together. I want to ask, but don’t.
As if sensing my question, he eyes me. “We had one kid. A daughter.”
“That must have been hard.”
“It was. When I joined the Bachmans, children weren’t allowed to live in the Village. I would have had to work something out, but I would have. I’d have done anything for her.”
“Lucky girl.” I sense that talking about his daughter is off-limits. “So children weren’t allowed in the Village at one point, but they are, now?”
“We’ve typically kept the Village strictly child-free, having families live at the Parrish, or our town in Connecticut, the Hamlet. Cash’s brother died, and he adopted her daughter.” He swallows hard before he says the little girl’s name. “Janie.Anyway, he was set to become the head of the Village when Rockland retired. So, the ban was lifted. We build a schoolhouse, and his wife, Ella, runs it.”
“I guess that’s a risk. Having them in the city, the place you’re most vulnerable,” I muse.
He looks up from his mug. “Vulnerable? We have higher-tech security than the military.”
I shrug. “Still. Seems risky.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t say I haven’t felt the same way before. But those little ones—” His smile beams as he looks up at me. “They just brighten our dark world, don’t they?”
The look in those green eyes as they study my face makes my empty womb throb, like a clock I’ve never been aware of before is ticking. Whoa! Never felt that before. His words are touching, his green eyes gorgeous, and he’s a loyal protector.
Is this man making me—a self-proclaimed career woman, single as a pringle—want to have a baby? I stare at the crumbs on my plate for answers.
Perhaps the chocolate caused my uterus to ache.
We sit in a comfortable silence and sip our drinks.
He presses a hand to his head with a deep breath. “I’ve never shared like that.”
“How do you feel now?” I reach across the table, my hand over his.
“Lighter. Much lighter.” He thinks a moment, then says, “Want to know what drove Jane and me apart?”
Of course I do!
I play it cool, patting my curls. “I do. If you want to share.”
Pain is etched in his face. “She found someone else.”
“I don’t get that,” I say with a shake of my head. “Why marry if you’re willing to trade it all in for someone else?”
His eyes snap to mine. “Exactly. Marriage is loyalty. Loyalty should be stronger than desire.”
“Exactly.” I knew he was a ride-or-die type, being Bachman and all, but cue the womb throb anyway. “It has to be. Otherwise, how are two people supposed to make it to happily-ever-after?”
