Page 59 of Legal Attraction
“I didn’t forget,” she assured him. “But you have to realize you’re only seeing the bad marriages. Not the good ones.”
He snorted derisively. “I could read you statistics, too. But I wouldn’t have thought I’d have to. Your marriage was a scam. How could you ever consider getting married again?” He shivered as if he abhorred the thought.
“I didn’t think I would, either,” she admitted. “Arte made me doubt my judgment, not just in men but in friends, too. But then Bette became such a good, loyal friend to me.” She blinked as tears stung her eyes. She’d learned that the quantity of friends didn’t matter; it was the quality.
“I’ve been lucky in that regard, too,” Ronan said. “I have damn good friends.”
“So, if we can choose good friends, why can’t we choose good mates?” she asked.
He glanced over at her then looked back at the road. “I don’t want a mate,” he said. “I never intend to get married. If you thought taking me to meet your grandparents would make me propose.”
She snorted now. “God, no. I don’t want to marry you. We haven’t even been out on an actual date.” And that was what she’d wanted from him. Not a proposal—just a date. An actual relationship and the hope that it could go somewhere, someday, when they were both ready.
But it was clear that Ronan would never be ready. At least, not with her.
They were silent the rest of the drive into the city. And when he drew near her apartment building, he double parked by a cab. He obviously had no intention of showing her to her door. She jumped out before he could even put the vehicle into Park.
“Don’t worry,” she told him. “I have no intention of trying to tie you up or down.”
“Muriel...”
“In fact, consider yourself cut loose right now, for good,” she said as she slammed the passenger door shut.
He opened his door and called out to her over the roof of the car. “Muriel!”
She sucked in a breath to brace herself before turning back toward him and the car.
His brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. I thought you were enjoying...” He glanced around the busy street as if worried someone might overhear them.
But everyone appeared too busy with their own lives to bother eavesdropping on theirs. And for once there were no reporters around.
She was old news again. And, unfortunately, so was whatever the hell they’d been doing. “I’m not enjoying it anymore.”
It hurt—every time he ran away from her, it hurt. So this time she was the one who turned and ran...
But she knew it wouldn’t matter how far and fast she went. The pain was going to catch up with her. She had fallen in love with another man who would never be able to love her back.
