Page 118 of The Broken Heart Playlist
“Greyhounds are sight hounds,” Jedediah says, his rheumy brown eyes fixed on Uno. “That one will rip little Maybelleen to pieces.”
Gideon and I lower our gazes to the dachshund, sharp white teeth bared in a snarl. It looks like little Maybelleen can handle herself okay. Uno appears to agree with us. He’s pressed unhappily against Gideon’s leg.
I glimpse Gideon biting his lip, struggling to contain his laughter. “Uno’s passed his temperament test,” he says, in a bidto reassure the elderly man. “You don’t have to worry about him.”
“I’m not taking any chances,” Jedediah retorts.
I muster a wide smile for him. “Well, you have a pleasant evening, Mr. Clarke.”
“I doubt it will be pleasant after this,” he mutters as he walks away.
Deep breaths, I tell myself. Yes, he annoys me. He annoys nearly everyone in town. But his wife died six months ago and they were married for over fifty years. I can swallow my annoyance and try to show kindness to a cantankerous old man who, as far as I know, has not shown much kindness to anyone.
I look away from Jedediah to find Gideon watching me, as if captivated. He frames my face in his hands. “You can deny it until you’re blue in the face,” he says, his words a low rumble, “but you, Kate Miller, have a soft and caring heart.”
For the next three weeks while Lisset is away at camp, Gideon and I live in our own protected bubble. We text late into the night. Take impromptu walks with Uno. Blast pop music while we cook dinner together. We binge-watch crime dramas and alternate between debating deep subjects to talking trivia while we sip wine on the porch. I soak up all the little moments and store them away—Gideon’s deep laugh, his bear hugs that block out the world, the shoulder massages after a grueling workday, and his quiet gazes that say so much.
We kiss everywhere. All the time. I can’t get enough of him, and he can’t get enough of me. Kissing feels like breathing for the two of us. It’s consuming and scary and thrilling all at once.
We finally get our romantic second date at a fine dining restaurant with white tablecloths and candlelight. It’s lovely and intimate and the food is exquisite, but as we’re strolling down alamp-lit Main Street toward our car, I say to Gideon, “Is it wrong to say our first date is still my favorite?”
Gideon smiles. “I thought there was something wrong tonight. I didn’t once have the urge to vomit.”
Laughter rolls out of me. “It looks like nothing can top the Unique Food Museum.”
We are both making a concerted effort to keep things light between us. No mention of the future or what our official relationship status is.
One Saturday morning, Gideon surprises me with a hot air balloon ride. Happiness swells inside me as I take in the breathtaking scenery while Gideon’s body curves around mine like its sole purpose in life is to protect me. My mind unfurls the memory of my first glimpse of him, how threatened I’d felt by the sheer size of him. Now all that power and strength is there for my benefit.
On Sunday, there’s the usual weekly family lunch at my parents’ house. I decide not to bring Gideon with me. But as I talk and laugh and play board games with my family, it feels strange and somehow wrong to be there without him at my side. When I return home, I head immediately over to his house and launch myself into his arms as soon as he opens the door. His arms come around me and he kisses me as though I was away for days and not hours. I know he’s missed me as fiercely as I missed him, but I can also see, lurking under the surface, that I’ve hurt him.
Later that evening, we’re sitting on his porch, drinking iced lattes in the sweltering heat of a summer night, when Gideon asks me quietly, “Are you ashamed to be seen with me? Is that why you didn’t invite me to your family lunch?”
“No, of course not,” I say. “I just...I don’t know...I want it to be the two of us for now.”
His jaw is tight. “I don’t want to be hidden away like a guilty secret.”
“It’s not that.” I can’t fully meet his eye. “But if you get involved with my family and we don’t work out, then it can get messy.”
There’s a flash of something unsettling in his eyes, but it’s gone quickly. “Why won’t we work out?”
“I’m not saying we won’t, but sometimes life happens,” I tell him in a low voice. “Not everyone gets a happy ending.”
“I’m going to be upfront with you, Kate. I’m falling for you. And I’m falling hard. I’m all in here.” His words are level and precise, and the look in his eyes tells me he means every single one of them. “I want it all. You. Lisset. Your family. I want your insecurities and your complications. All your hard edges and the demons you fight. Everything. I’m not afraid of the bad, of the parts you keep hidden.”
I shake my head. Even if he does mean it now, eventually it would all be too much and then he’d walk away. Just like Oliver.
His hand finds its way to my jawline. The look in his eyes is so tender it puts an ache in my chest. “I can handle complicated and messy. You and Lisset are worth it.”
I inhale a frayed breath. “I really, really like you, Gideon. It’s scary how much I enjoy being with you, but I can’t—”
He cuts me off. “I know you’re not ready to give your all to me just yet. But you don’t know my determination or my patience. I will pursue you. And I will wait for you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
After a particularly difficult shoot, the last thing I need on a Friday evening is a hard, bony head nudging between my legs. But that’s exactly what I’m getting.
I yelp and glance down to see Uno’s long nose poking out from between my legs. He’d snuck up behind me.
