Page 29 of The Jellybean Dilemma

“I wanted to surprise you, with the house and my family. Not hurt you. I never want to hurt you or use you. That’s not who I am and”—he stopped to swallow—“I hope you know that.”

Guilt hit me then, low and hard, right in the gut. What I’d accused him of, thought him capable of, was despicable. I laid a hand on his chest, waiting for him to look at me. “I do know that, Greg. I’ve just been with so many assholes that I forget everyone isn’t like that. I’m sorry.” I thought about the rest of what he’d said. “And I’m here, as your friend, ally. Whatever you need.”

I left it there, wanting to be so much more to him, but knowing we’d just started scratching the surface. We hadn’t named this new, tentative thing between us, and I didn’t want to push. Didn’t want to give Greg any reason to run away. I’d waited so long for him, and he had his own timetable, needing to take things slow. I wasn’t going to ruin it by pushing.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” He stepped back, clearing his throat. “Come on, let’s go get warm and dry.”

* * * *

An amazing aroma greeted us when we stepped into the entryway. Julie greeted us from the dining room table where she’d been reading on her tablet.

Greg inhaled deeply, his face lighting up. “Is that what I think it is?”

Julie nodded. “Myrna had some in the freezer. Thought it’d be a good day for it.”

I stood there, waiting for someone to clue me in.

Greg took pity on me. “Myrna makes the best potato soup I’ve ever had, and she always made it for us after we went sledding.” His grin held a wicked glint as he turned back to his mom. “Mandy’s going to be so mad when she hears she missed out.”

She chuckled as we trudged past. “Make sure to hang up your wet things!”

The way Greg heaved an annoyed sigh before hollering his agreement sent a pang of longing through me. My mom had never done that. Jealousy pricked me at the ease of their relationship and the familiarity of this conversation. Even though he muttered on about how he was a grown man and was smart enough to hang up his damn clothes, I knew he loved his mom.

It took forever to peel off all my soggy layers. After hanging our wet things on a clothes rack, we traipsed upstairs. My dry, comfy clothes felt like heaven. Greg waited for me in the sitting room, wearing those ass hugging sweatpants again. Oh darn.

The potato soup was as delicious as they’d claimed, plus it warmed me inside and out. My cheeks stayed flushed from the time spent outdoors, but I didn’t regret a moment of it. Especially since something had shifted between me and Greg. An obstacle removed.

We settled on the couch to watch a movie, and he sat right next to me, no prompting, no maneuvering. We were really doing this. Whatever this is.

One question burned within me, and now was as good a time as any. Glancing around to be sure his mom wasn’t in earshot, I asked quietly, “Greg, why didn’t you RSVP to the wedding?”

His arm tensed next to mine, and his mouth tightened. He stared down at his lap then sighed. “What I said outside is part of it. I needed someone to come with me, and I just kept putting it off, hoping I’d find that person.” He glanced at me. “The other part was you. I knew you weren’t in a good place, and I didn’t want to leave you alone, especially for a holiday. You had me worried.”

My heart twisted at the thought of Greg being that concerned for me, but then his admission sank in, and I gaped at him. I felt like someone had just told me grass was purple and proven it. “You care that much?”

Maybe it wasn’t me against the world. Maybe Greg really was in my corner. And grass really was purple.

His brow furrowed together. “Jellybean, I’ve always cared.”

A crack formed in the ice coating my heart, and I grinned. I shifted on the couch so our shoulders touched, thrilling even more when he didn’t pull away. We stayed like that for the rest of the movie. The credits had just started rolling when a door slammed, and Mandy stormed in.

We hurried over to see what was wrong, arriving just in time to watch her plop onto the stairs, drop her head in her hands and start sobbing.

Chapter Nine

We exchanged concerned looks before Greg asked, “What’s wrong?”

Mandy choked out, “Erin’s stuck in Minneapolis,” between sobs. Her phone slipped to the floor with a dull thud.

Greg’s lips pressed together. He flew to her side and kneeled next to her, wrapping his arms around her.

Afraid I knew the answer, I asked quietly, “Who’s Erin?”

He responded, “Mandy’s best friend since kindergarten. And her maid of honor.”

“What happened, Mandy?” Maybe I could help fix it.

The muffled answer came from somewhere in the vicinity of Greg’s shoulder. “Her flight got canceled due to a snowstorm.”

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