That was rotten timing.
Not an hour ago, Evander gifted me with the most shocking, soul-crushing orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life, and he was thrilled to be the gift giver.
When he said there’s a lot more where that came from, I told him to bring it on.
But then we started talking, and he asked me why I came back to Sweetbriar last year, and everything came to a screeching halt.I completely melted down over my dad.
I don’t even know where all that sorrow and anger came from.I had no idea so much grief was waiting just below the surface.
I certainly didn’t expect that Evander’s gentle question would break open the dam the way it did.
Evander gave me room to let it all go.He made me feel safe enough that I could be completely honest.I knew there would be no judgment for my snotty nose and loud sobs.
If Evander wanted to judge me, he’s had plenty of legit opportunities to do so in the last twenty-four hours.But he hasn’t.He’s given me nothing but goodness and patience.
Too much good.And this is bad.
My heart’s going to break into a million pieces when we’re back to our normal lives.I shouldn’t have told him I’d have no expectations.
It’s too late now.I’m in for a rough fall to earth.
Evander’s lying next to me by the fire.He’s wrapped me in blankets and his soothing embrace.The only time he’s left my side was when he went to grab three cleansing towelettes from the first aid kit—the closest thing we have to tissues.
My crying has stopped, but I just can’t seem to stop talking about how hard my dad’s illness has hit me.
“He’s always been a rock for me,” I tell Evander.“I want to be the same for him, but it’s getting difficult to stay cheerful and encouraging all the time.I know all too well what his prognosis is.”
He rubs my back.
“This will likely be his last Christmas.”
“Then you’ll make every second of it count.”
“With all my brothers home, we’re sure gonna try.”
Evander gives me a squeeze.“If there’s anything we MacLaines can do to help you with that, we’ll do it.”
I sniff.“Thank you.That’s sweet.”
“I’m not a sweet guy, Phoebe.”Like a switch was just flipped, his voice suddenly sounds lifeless.“Don’t get the wrong idea about me, all right?I’m self-centered.My heart is as hard as a stone.If I do something, it’s because there’s something in it for me.”
I prop myself up so I can look down at him.He's scowling and his eyes are narrowed, dark and brooding.
With his increasingly scruffy appearance—the uncombed hair, thick eyebrows, and a five-o’clock shadow that looks like five months of growth—he comes off as the kind of man you’d cross to the other side of the street to avoid.
I think he’s trying to scare me.Give me a warning.
It’s not working.
I sniff back the last of my tears and smile down at him.“If the MacLaines help give my dad the best Christmas possible, what’s in it for you?”
It’s barely noticeable, but one corner of his mouth twitches.“Truth?”
“Why switch it up now?”
That twitch spreads into a legitimate smile, and everything in me floods with heat.And a little bit of sadness.
I see it in my mind—the pieces of my broken heart thrown out onto the snow.
