Page 57 of My Favorite Lost Cause
His smile is the tiniest bit cruel. “You’re not the only one of us who can make plans, Maren.”
“I was going to see if you could watch the puppies,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. “If you’ll just be in Oak Bluff, you’ll be home before me. Can you please let them out when you get home?”
“I’ll be in Beaufort,” he replies, “and it’s the kind of situation where you don’t come home ’til the next day.”
It shouldn’t be the gut punch that it is.
I rack my brain for a way to object to this and come up short. I could argue that he shouldn’t be meeting a stranger for sex—simply in terms of safety—but unless she’s six-foot-five or armed, he’s probably fine, and he wouldn’t listen to me anyway.
“Be safe,” I warn, my jaw locked as I proceed to the cottage.
I set Echo and Narcy up with food and water inside, then apologize to Andrew once I’ve returned. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t be gone long because of the dogs. Charlie’s apparently staying out all night.”
Andrew laughs. “I guess his reputation serves, then. I know nothing about the guy, but I’ve heard the rumors.”
I find it far less amusing than he does.
Andrew still wants to go to dinner in Beaufort, despite thetime restriction, which I guess is pretty sweet. On the way there, we talk about his divorce, which sounds far more amicable than mine.
“I’d like to come out of this thing still friends,” he says. “I’ll be running into her for the rest of my life, after all.”
A few months ago, before I came down here, a statement like this would have made him seem like the perfect man. The opposite of Harvey, who’d be out to ruin me right now if he wasn’t terrified of Henry.
Tonight, though, I’m fighting the fear that he’s perhaps slightly too nice? That I sort of like someone with a tiny bit of an edge?
Stop. Andrew is perfect, and it’s a pleasant change after Charlie.
Except Iloveall the ways Charlie isn’t nice, aside from the one where he stays out all night with a woman he’s just met.
That one isn’t my favorite.
“I’m hogging the conversation,” he says. “Sorry. How is your stuff coming along? Do you want to talk about it?”
My mouth opens, then closes.
Harvey’s accusing me of sleeping with Charliemight sound as crazy to him as it is, or he might thinkwhere there’s smoke, there’s fire—especially given how hostile Charlie was to Andrew during their phone call.
“We had a prenup,” I say simply. “My lawyer says I’ll be free by next spring.”
“That’s good,” he says with a half-smile.
Maybe I’m reading too much into everything—I’ve certainly been known to do so—or maybe Andrew’s thoughts are traveling in the precise direction mine would have been even a few months ago: that we want the same things and might make a good team. It wouldn’t be thrilling, but is any marriage thrilling once you’ve been in it long enough?
Over dinner, Andrew continues to impress me. He manages to discuss the failings in his relationship without makingKristen out to be the villain. He is interested in what he does for a living but not obsessed with it. “I work long hours,” he says, “but that’s mostly because I don’t have anyone to come home to.”
As far as the house goes, he’s got a couple old friends who are very well connected. He’s placing some calls tomorrow. “I think the other angle we should consider is whether this property developer has done this elsewhere,” he says. “If we can threaten him with bad publicity, he might back off.”
It sounds as if there’s almost no need to go to theBridgerton-themed ball. Except that I reallywantto.
Our plates are cleared. Andrew’s talking about golfing at Pebble Beach and for some reason, this makes me think of Charlie. I don’t know why—Charlie doesn’t even golf. But all I want in the whole world is to get back to Riverbend and sit on the porch with him, to tell him about my night and all my fears, and the fact that I’d like to be more excited about Andrew than I am.
Kit calls Charlie “the douchiest man in Manhattan” and he hasn’t done a whole lot to disprove the name, but…there’s no one else in the whole world I want to tell everything to. There’s no one else I want to be around. If only he was going to be there tonight. And he’s not, which ought to be all the proof I need that my interests are better served elsewhere.
“Look,” Andrew says, setting the dessert menu off to the side. His face is open and genuine. “I’m going to be blunt. Probably too blunt. I’ve been interested in you since the moment Harvey introduced us. I was married, and I wouldn’t have acted on it, but Maren…I liked you five years ago, and I’ve liked you a little more every time I’ve seen you since, so when you’re ready to start dating again, I want to be first in line. I know you guys were having issues getting pregnant, but I’m ready to be a father, even if the kid isn’t mine. I’m not entirely clear on how in vitro works, but if you’ve got those eggs ready togo and need someone there to raise a child with, I would like to be that guy. If you want to adopt, I’m okay with that too.”
I guess I don’t have to sit around guessing what tonight was about. He couldn’t have been clearer, and it’s everything I could have asked for. I should be bursting at the seams, but I’m not.
“Wow.” My laughter is gentle, awkward. How do you reply to a guy who’s just put all that on the table? “That’s not where I thought tonight was heading.”
