“That often seems to be the case.”
“It does. But he … I wish he had said more. All I know is that he loved my grandmother before the war, they got married after, and it was a while before they had Aunt Agnes, and years later, my father.”
“I imagine a book like this could help you feel closer to him. Like you could put yourself in his shoes a bit. Do you know anything about what he did in the war or where he went?”
“No. I mean, I’m sure I could find out some of it, but sadly I don’t. I’d meant to ask my dad about it, but never got around to it. And now, obviously, I can’t.”
I reach a hand to his forearm, hoping to comfort him. “I’m so sorry.” So sorry about his parents, so sorry about the missing information about his grandfather, and so sorry he’s the only one left in his family. He needs people to love. Maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s the dozen black-haired, blue-eyed, accent-confused babies. Or it could be someone else.Thatdoesn’t feel terribly good to think about, but I can’t quite leave behind all myearlier reservations, as much as I’d like to.
He gives me a sad smile, and it breaks my heart. I’ve never seen him less than neutral. Usually he is bright smiles, teasing and laughter. I feel the need to cheer him up. I lift onto my toes and kiss his cheek. “Come on. You’re getting that book, but I want you to help me pick mine.”
His smile is back. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to do that.”
I pull him toward the fiction books. “Oh please, of course you are. You know a good story. I know you do.”
He nods. “Alright. Do you have options, or are we working from scratch?”
“I narrowed it down to two.” I hand him the first one, a fantasy romance involving a woman who’s forced to marry a werewolf—before she knows he is a werewolf.
He reads the blurb on the back and gives me a look. “I mean, this doesn’t speak to me in particular, but it could be good, I guess. Let me see the other.”
“Was it the werewolf, or just fantasy in general that seems unappealing?”
“I don’t like that she got tricked.”
Ah. Good man. I hand him the second book, a romcom about a divorced, pregnant woman who falls for a military man from her childhood, who is suddenly back in her life.
He studies the back cover. “I think this is your winner. It seems like it could be fun with the pregnancy and all thecraziness that goes along with that.”
“All the craziness that goes along with that?” I laugh. Both of Val’s pregnancies had craziness attached to them, so I don’t think he’s wrong. Just funny.
Alex laughs. “I don’t know. I’ve not been close with any pregnant women. I mean, I’ve been around them every now and again, and I’ve heard stories, and seen movies and TV shows, so I get the idea. Although, if most of what I know about pregnancies comes from the screen, it’s probably exaggerated.”
I shrug. “I would imagine most of the pregnancy things are real; they may just not all happen to every woman.”
“Makes sense.” He stacks the second book with his, and we walk toward the counter. “Do you want to have kids?”
“I would love to have kids,” I answer, and I don’t miss the light in his eyes. Good grief, this man.
“Good to know.”
We don’t receive a new riddle from Mr. Crawley, but it doesn’t matter. Either way, I need to get back to my family. I’d spoken to Val this morning, and evenshewas ready for me to get back.
She loves me after all.
I didn’t mention the possibility of Alex tagging along forthe Scotland portion of our trip. More like the possibility of him hijacking and restructuring the rest of it. He probably already has his assistant looking into things. Honestly, I’m a bit surprised Val didn’t suggest he come along. It makes me think she’s ready for it to be just us. But then again, maybe it just hadn’t occurred to her.
We drive back to London in comfortable silence; at least it begins comfortably. We stop for car snacks to share and pass them back and forth. I take Alex’s phone and play music. But my thoughts ultimately turn back to logistics and the impossibility of it all. I know I should just talk it out with Alex, but I’m feeling irrationally embarrassed. I shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t. But I do.
As we near London, I realize I’m not quite ready to leave him. Maybe a bit more time will be what I need to get rid of these thoughts. At least it would give me more time to work up to talking with him about how I’m feeling. “Could we go back to your house for a bit? They aren’t expecting me until five.”
“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” he teases, but he’s right. Now that I’m seriously entertaining the idea of trying to make something of us, Ican’tget enough of him. And I need to save up enough kisses to get me through until we’re together again.
“It’s your humility that draws me to you.”
He laughs, turning on his blinker. “Thank goodness for myexceptional, maybe even unmatched, humility.”
I smile over at him, leaning my head back on the headrest. “Given how handsome you are, I almost couldn’t blame you if you were the least humble person on the planet.”
