Page 54 of Just a Plot Twist
“Oh?” My brows go up and I lean in. My chest warms at his closeness. His nerves are kind of cute.
“Not that looks are everything, of course,” he assures. “But I assumed you have men lining up.”
“I’m flattered, Benson, but this is Longdale. There aren’t enough men to form a line! And I’m just me. I need to accomplish some more things before I settle down and have a family.”
The truth is, though, I do want a family. Desperately. I want a husband and kids.
I want all of it. The dinner around the table as a family. Mom. Dad. Kids. Going to the kids’ sports or dances or whatever they’re into.
“This is sort of embarrassing to say, but whenever I picture this nuclear family idea for myself, I’ve got my hair in a 1950s curl and set and I’m wearing an embroidered apron. And things are so…beautiful.”
My throat throbs at the desperate thought. “I always picture the things I never had. The mom and dad around the dinner table.” I attempt to swallow it all down. “So many women quit on their dreams to have families, though. I couldn’t do that to my grandparents and their legacy.”
Benson gives me a look.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, but—”
“But you don’t believe me.” I huff and pull up my uninjured leg so that my knee is high. I hug my legs closer to me.
“No. I’m saying it’s okay to want both. Both a family and a career.”
“I know.” And I’m sounding defensive now.
“And it’s good to make sure you do the things you want to do. You shouldn’t give up so much just because society tells you that you have to.”
“Like Danica felt she did?”
He nods. “She said she was trapped in our life. I wasn’t a perfect husband by any means, but my marriage vows were important to me, and I never had any desire to break them.” He meets my gaze, his brow low in a scowl. “I didn’t break them. I was completely faithful to her.” He works his jaw side to side, frowning. “I never imagined I’d be in this position where I would lose her and still be scratching my head wondering what happened.”
“That must be incredibly painful.” My brain is whirring. I want to ask so many questions and say so many things, but my tongue is frozen. Finally, I manage, “You’ve been through so much and I…haven’t. You and I are totally different. I’ve never been on more than a handful of dates with any one guy. I’ve never even told a guy I love him.”
Wow. There aren’t many people I’ve admitted that to. Inadequacy wells up inside of me and I trap my bottom lip between my teeth.
He gives me a sweet smile. “It’s good to have some caution there. If you’re not feeling it, don’t say it. Nothing wrong with being intentional.”
“I’ve only ever kissed two guys.” I consider his reaction and he’s…well, he’s surprised by that.
“Their names were Chad and Tad.”
He harrumphs. “Chad and Tad?”
“Yep. I won’t go into details, but—”
“Please don’t.”
Is that…a touch of animosity in his reaction? Does he not like thinking about me kissing other men?
Whatever it is, it’s interesting.
“But, dating them wasn’t exactly the most enjoyable experience.”
Now I’m certain his expression darkens.
“They weren’t big jerks or anything. I just didn’t…feel it, you know? And then I got super involved with the community and dating wasn’t a priority.”
“Makes sense if it wasn’t a great experience in the past.”
