Throwing on an oversized sweater and a pair of fleece leggings, I do my best to tame my hair but forgo makeup because he knows I’m not wearing any, and if I put some on, he’ll know I’m trying and I can’t have that.
Because I’mnottrying, not yet.
Returning to the living room, I turn off the television and stare longingly at the couch and blanket I’d been curled up in not long ago. Picking up the popcorn bowl and my glass, I make my way into the kitchen and set them on the counter.
“Ready?” he asks and I shrug.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Haveyou ever been to the beach in the winter?” Phoenix asks as we walk along the shore. The wind is cold coming off the water but it’s beautiful, dark and glassy as the moonlight dances off the waves.
“I haven’t. Venturing out in the cold isn’t really my forte unless I have to,” I say wryly, staring at him from the corner of my eye.
He chuckles and it’s deep and sexy and delicious.
“Well, thank you for making an exception tonight.” His words are earnest, and warmth floods through my chest. “I wanted to apologize.”
“For?” I ask, my hands balling into fists in the pockets of my jacket, my brain already conjuring a thousand things he could say tolet me down easy.
“Aspen,” he says, his hand gripping my elbow and pulling me to a stop, “don’t get mad yet.”
“Then talk faster.”
Releasing my arm, he moves his hand to settle on my lower back, guiding me back down the beach.
“Did you know that Bristol’s husband passed away?”
“Yes,” I say warily. “She’s told me a little bit.”
“Davis was like another brother to me. He was a great guy—perfect for Bristol and we all felt his loss when he died. I wasin college and I’d been dating this girl.” He pauses as if being sucked back into that time. “Losing him rocked me to the core, and in an unusually impulsive moment, I asked my girlfriend to marry me.” Turning his handsome face to look at me, he adds, “She said no.”
“I’m sorry.” Dueling reactions course through me as I wait for him to speak—jealousy and anger and relief and sadness all fight to be at the forefront.
“She was right to say no.” His fingers draw little circles on my back, the heat of his touch seeping through every single layer. “I didn’t love her enough to marry her. But I’d wanted so desperately to hold on to the vibrance she brought to my life.”
“It might not have been the best choice but it’s understandable. You were grieving.”
“I was. But instead of facing that head-on, separating my feelings from reality, I told myself that it washerthat had hurt me.” He swallows. “Not her particularly, but the idea of her—the qualities I’d been drawn to.”
“Phoenix…” Blood roars in my ears as he pulls us to a stop again.
“I was really quick to shove you into that box when you came to Magnolia Point. It was wrong and I’m sorry.”
“Huh,” I manage finally, because of all the things I thought he’d say tonight, this wasn’t one of them. We’ve only been out here a short while, but I’m already at my emotional limit. I feel wrung out and while part of me is thankful for the conversation, I can’t help being annoyed.
“You know,” he says wryly, “I was kind of anticipating a bigger reaction.”
“What, like me throwing myself into your arms and forgiving you for being a douche canoe the last year?”
He tries to school his expression but his lips still twitch. “Douche canoe is a highly underrated insult.”
“It is and it happens to be one of my favorites.” I shrug. “I use it every chance I get andthis,”—I wave between us—“is the perfect example.”
“Noted,” he says, pulling me close enough he can wrap one arm around my back and brush a piece of hair from my face with the other. “For the record, I didn’t think you’d throw yourself into my arms. I actually was bracing myself for being slapped.”
“You picked the wrong sister for that,” I muse, thinking of the football player in high school that grabbed Vienna’s ass. He’d been suspended and Montana had taken her out for ice cream.
“I just wantyou.”
