Page 38 of Make You Love Me
“And what’s important to your sister is important to you.” He truly had the purest of hearts. Returning to the list, I squint to read the next entry. Am I seeing this right? Ride a steam engine?”
“I loved trains as a kid.”
“How are we going to find a steam engine around here?” I stare at him in dismay.
“You said you wanted to get creative…you’ll figure something out.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You mean impossibly charming?”
My gaze holds his because yeah, I could get behind that statement. The wind gusting through the open windows on the drive home mussed his blond hair, giving off a carefree, surfer charm. The eyes that can soften even my sharpest edges bore into mine, revealing a side of him I’ve never truly witnessed until this moment. He’s more than charming, and I wish I hadn’t damaged everything beyond repair.
“Yeah,” I agree, my voice wearing my regret. “You’re impossibly charming.” And a lot of other memorable adjectives.
“What’s next on the list, Nora?”
He must have felt the shift between us and needed a diversion or knew I did. I look at the list, but my eyes are unfocused, reeling from the revelation that I regret destroying what we had. A regret stemmed not only from hurting him but accepting his love and not returning it. From never telling him how sweet and thoughtful and amazing he is. And mainly from pushing away and shattering the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
“Nora.”
“Right.” I suck in a breath and blink to clear the fog. “Skiing in Vale, Niagara Falls, something about a camel, rafting, camping in the Grand Canyon, and…”
“And what?”
Holding the list closer to my face, I squint for a better view. “The last one is missing.”
“Missing?”
“You erased it.”
“That’s weird. I don’t remember erasing anything or even the last time I looked at that list.”
“I can make out an M at the start and an L and E. Sorry.” I shrug and stuff the list into his wallet. “You’ll have to remember or come up with a new one.”
Speaking of remembering something forgotten, I drop the wallet and add two tea bags to the boiling water on the stove. Half the water has evaporated thanks to the list distraction, but I focus on the simple task to keep my thoughts off my regretful heart. Locate the sugar and a large pitcher for making sweet tea—Jordan’s favorite. Consider measuring the sugar, forget how much to add, pour in what looks like an unhealthy amount, and hope. Stir in the hot water from the pot and cold from the tap. Collect a glass from the cabinet and fill it with ice and tea.
I glance over at him. “Feeling okay?”
“Sort of. Bruises are throbbing.” He checks the time on the microwave. “Mind grabbing my meds?”
“Sure. Think we did too much today?”
I place three prescription bottles in his lap, hand over the glass of tea, then push him to an empty spot beside the couch.
“No. Well, maybe, but I don’t care. It was worth it.”
“Not used to retirement life yet?” I joke, not realizing the slip until it was out of my mouth.
“Hell, no,” he continues without a beat. “And never will be. Other than the cost of losing all this time with you, I can’t wait to get back to work.”
“Want to watch a movie?” I blurt. It was an awkward transition, one he could chalk up to my reluctance to talk about our relationship, but it had to be done. The conversation had taken a dangerous right turn, thanks to my unfortunate slip, and I’m not prepared to handle the aftermath if it stays off track.
“Sure, but pick something you like.” He nods at the prescription bottles. “This concoction usually knocks me out.”
“In that case, we should get you into bed,” I suggest, knowing I won’t be able to move him if he falls asleep on the couch.
“Hmm. I like that idea. Will you join me? I can’t stomach the idea of having you so close but not with me.”
