Page 32 of Forgotten Promise

John started to argue, but Benjamin had already walked away from them, phone in hand.

Was he buying the couch right now?

Kailani reached over and placed her hand on John’s forearm, and he felt the same warm buzz that always accompanied her touches.

When she’d pushed down the hood of her robe at the binding ceremony, she had taken his breath away. She was truly one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, with her tanned skin, dark eyes, and delicate features. Then, with her face flushed and her eyes sparking with anger as she looked at Benjamin, he’d felt drawn not only to her looks but her spirit.

“I could help you decorate if you want,” she said.

He appreciated her offer, and he knew it was sincere.

The three of them had squandered their month, wasting too much time on Kailani and Benjamin’s past without giving the present a second glance. He wanted to get to know them, and he wanted them to know him as well.

He didn’t know what the future held, but the more time he spent with them, the more he realized he wanted them to be a part of his.

“I told you I was in foster care,” he said, feeling slightly nervous. He didn’t talk about his childhood because he hated pity, hated the way people suddenly started looking at him differently, like he was somehow…broken.

“You did,” Kailani said softly.

“I never managed to find a permanent placement, so I was moved around a lot. Sometimes, I didn’t get a lot of warning ahead of time, which meant there wasn’t much time to pack up my stuff. After a while, I just made sure everything I owned would fit in a trash bag.”

“A trash bag?” she asked.

He gave her a crooked, self-deprecating grin. “I didn’t get my first suitcase until I was in my twenties.” He pointed toward the front door where he’d dropped his duffel bag. “There it is.”

He’d hoped the joke would lighten the moment, but it missed the mark.

Kailani’s hand, still on his arm, squeezed gently, and he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

And there it was…the sympathetic voice, the pity. Somehow, coming from Kailani, it felt much worse, so he changed course, unwilling—actually unable—to tell her more.

This was still too new—their relationship, as well as his attempts at opening up to someone. Right now, all he could handle were baby steps.

So he shrugged casually, assuming an it’s-no-big-deal air. “I guess I just got used to living a minimalist lifestyle.”

Kailani’s hand fell away, obviously sensing his huge one-eighty.

Benjamin walked back over to them. “I’ve ordered you a few things.”

John nodded, trying to process the fact Benjamin had bought him an actual couch. “You bought me a couch?”

“No, I bought you a Mission-style panel sofa, two Mission-style armchairs with matching side tables, and Craftsman Tiffany-style lamps.” As Benjamin spoke, he walked around the living room, indicating where everything would go. “I also commissioned a size-appropriate dining table and chairs—a replica of the set in Gamble House.” Benjamin glanced around, his gaze assessing. “That will do to start. The bed…we need to measure to see if an Alaskan King will fit.” Benjamin put his phone in his pocket. “My people will handle delivery and installation, but they’ll need someone to open the door. Do you have an assistant…I mean, a neighbor with a key?”

John blinked. Benjamin was decisive and overbearing, but based on what he’d just said, he hadn’t simply ordered furniture. He’d ordered the right furniture.

Kailani tilted her head, then said, “That was nice of you,” to Benjamin.

“It’s been known to happen,” Benjamin retorted, sarcastically but with humor.

Kailani reverted to form, rolling her eyes.

Before they could pick up the bickering again, Benjamin’s phone rang. Glancing at the screen, he cursed softly. “This is a work thing. Give me a minute?”

John nodded as Benjamin stepped into the kitchen and answered.

Kailani drifted back down the hallway, stopping in front of his bedroom. “I really would like to help you decorate,” she said, walking into the bedroom that served more as a walk-in closet, considering he still slept on the futon in the living room. He’d been meaning to order a bed. He just hadn’t made the time.

“How much do you think all that furniture he just bought costs?” John asked, feeling slightly ill at the thought.

---