“And that you’re modest?” But he gave me one of those rare, beautiful smiles, and I couldn’t help grinning back.
“One of my better qualities.” My humor faded. “Thanks for being there last night.”
He sipped his coffee. “You’re welcome. It must be hard watching your sister make mistake after mistake.”
“For years I tried to protect her the best way I knew how—money, legal advice. And I didn’t mind because I knew she’d had it rough. Now?” I shrugged. “Maybe I’m ready to let go. I think my promise to my father was fulfilled.”
“I agree. At some point she has to own up to her responsibilities. And if she’s marrying that guy, they’ll have to deal with each other.”
While I understood Keston’s logic and agreed with him on principle, I knew it’d be hard to walk away completely. Some part of me would always be watching over Belinda. I also wanted to change the subject.
“What’re you doing today, now that we’re home early in the city? I know you don’t have any clients scheduled, so we could have one of those brunches you’re so intent on avoiding.”
Keston’s brow furrowed. “I’m not avoiding them. It’s just not my scene.”
“Well, I love them. How about we compromise?” I set my cup aside and circled the island to hug him. “We go out for brunch, then you can decide what we get to do for the rest of the afternoon.” I pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I think we both have the same idea for how we’ll spend the night.”
He groped my ass. “Is this part of the figuring-out-what-we’re-doing thing we talked about at the cabin?”
I already knew my feelings, but no way in hell was I going to tell Keston.
“Yeah. I think so. What do you say?”
He kissed me. “Bring on the Bloody Marys.”
It was the perfect day, leading to an even better night. After brunch, which he admitted—grudgingly—that he’d enjoyed, we walked past the Dakota, and into Central Park. The weather stayed sunny, and hand in hand, we strolled along the path. Keston bought a pretzel, and I bit almost half of it off. Pretend-outraged, he pulled it away from me.
“What the hell was that?”
“I like a man with a big pretzel, what can I say? Especially yours ’cause it’s extra salty.”
“There’s no stopping you, is there?” he groaned and finished it off. He wrapped his arm around my waist, our lips brushing together. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and my heart pounded.
“Nothing could keep me from wanting you.”
Keston blinked and kissed me. “Let’s go to your place.”
Once home, he didn’t jump me as I’d thought but led me to the couch. I sat, and he lay with his head in my lap.
“You were right.”
My fingers played in his hair. “About what? There are so many possible answers.”
“The brunch. It was nice.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” My fingers trailed the cut of his jawline. “What do you think about sushi for dinner?”
“I’m thinking they better deliver late.”
I glanced down at him, and at the familiar glint in his eyes, my body leaped to respond.
“Guess we’ll have to find out.” I raced to the bedroom. Keston followed me, and I met his lips eagerly as I pulled him to the bed.
**
Monday morning, I awoke with Keston’s arm heavy across my waist, and I welcomed its weight. For a few minutes I luxuriated in my fantasy. Keston and me, together. In love. Carefully, I turned to him and studied his face as he slept, something I never got a chance to do when he was awake.
Even in rest, his brow was furrowed, and I wondered about the pain still living inside him. Was he irrevocably broken, too fractured to feel? To love? Was I? My head spinning, I closed my eyes, as if that would settle my jumbled thoughts into some semblance of coherence.
