Page 82 of Love Under Snowfall

Benjamin had been so heartless with so many that he’d never experienced a healthy relationship, and the idea of trying to have one, especially with Francesca, seemed out of his expertise. Beyond reach.

No. Dating her would not end happily because he didn’t know how to break the cycle of use and dismissal.

“Can I ask you a question?” Francesca asked softly.

“Anything.” He brushed a kiss on her temple.

“I don’t want this to come off as an insult or anything.”

“Spit it out, Miss Miller,” he teased, retrieving his glasses off the side table and hooking them over his ears. “No need to beat around the bush.”

She pushed up and sat cross-legged with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Benjamin desperately wanted to tug the comforter away and feast his eyes on her lithe body, but the urge to give her what she wanted won out.

“I don’t get it,” Francesca blurted.

“That’s not a question,” he smirked, sliding a hand beneath the covers to play with her knee.

She swatted his fingers away. “Would you let me finish?”

Benjamin sighed and sat up, mimicking her posture. “Apologies. Please proceed.”

“Why does my brother loveyou so much? You . . . you haven’t been here. You didn’t show up for either funeral. You two don’t chat on the phone. He doesn’t even know that your mother died or that you made a huge career change. Those are all things friends share. For all intents and purposes, you two aren’t friends. So . . . why?” Her voice held a certain tone of protectiveness, and it felt corrosive against Benjamin’s heart.

“I asked him that very question yesterday at the rehearsal dinner.” He chuckled dryly.

“And what was his answer?”

“Nothing profound. Nothing that satisfied my conscience, anyway.” He looked into Francesca’s eyes and lost himself in their emotion. In a few short hours—maybe less—he wouldn’t have the luxury of having her look at him like that ever again. The moment he walked out of her room would be the last time he would ever feel whole. Yet he knew what needed to be done. “But after what I witnessed at the wedding, I understood.”

Her face contorted in confusion. “Understood what?”

“Jonathan. He collects damaged men and turns them into brothers. Once he’s deemed someone worthy of redemption, he never lets them go. Zac, Miguel, me.”

“Miguel’s not damaged. He’s the most solid one of the group.”

“You’ve been preoccupied with the wedding and your asshole of a professor. It’s understandable that you haven’t seen it.

“And Jon kicked Zac out.”

“Of the reception, yes. He didn’t kick him out of his life. He’ll continue to believe in Zac. Continue to love him like a brother.”

Francesca took on a distant expression as she put all the pieces together. “Huh.”

“My point is that your brother is a rescuer. And he refusesto let someone go once he’s cataloged them as family. No matter what.”

A little smirk tugged at her lips.

“What?” Benjamin asked with narrowed eyes.

“Even if they slept with his little sister?”

He dropped his head and sat back. The truth was, he didn’t know if he’d be losing one Miller or two when he went back to Seattle. So, he decided to take the coward’s way out. “I suppose it all depends on if you tell him or not. The choice is yours, Francesca. And I won’t harbor ill feelings either way.”

Benjamin watched Francesca ruminate for a while. He wished she’d say her thoughts out loud. If he knew what was going on in her mind, then he’d know her true wishes and perhaps they could align with his. She’d agreed to tonight just being tonight. But perhaps she would want more. And perhaps if they went into it all as partners, a united front, facing the expected challenges head-on together, then maybe, just maybe . . .

“No. I’m going to keep it. Jon doesn’t need to know what we have—or had.” Her sad smile plunged a dagger deep into Benajmin’s heart.

“I respect your choice.” He nodded curtly, and her smile faltered.

---