“We made out in front of the whole town tonight, Babe. I think I can manage hand-to-hand contact.”
A blatant lie. I feel every millimeter of his skin like a simmering heat where it meets mine. All the more reason to nip this in the bud and head to bed.
Alone.
To my previously mentioned soft sheets.
I do, however, take this time to bring my knees to my chest and shove my chilly feet right up under Owen’s butt, where they’re instantly warm and cozy.
They’re home now. Safe and sound.
“You comfy there?” he asks, a sly grin lifting his lips.
“You’re holding my hand so the least you can do is warm my feet too.”
“Mmhmm,” he hums. “Listen, I want to do the show,” he says, eyes looking more heavy-lidded with every syllable. “Let me do this with you. We’ll have fun, just like you said. We loveSuite Hearts, and you want that prize money, right? I won’t let you down.”
Owen letting me down over a game show is not what I’m worried about, but money—though it is potentially a life-changing sum—feels like such a shallow reason to get married to a man who I know hopes for a lifetime commitment. With Aiden, this would have been easy. But with Owen... I can’t be selfish with him. Especially not with an expiration date.
“But there’s nothing in it for you. Unless you’ll split the money with me?”
“No. I mean… yes.” He sighs. “I don’t need the money, but look at me.” He gestures lazily with his good arm down the length of his body. “I’m not exactly busy. I can’t start PT for a few weeks, and I’m sure I can do it all Telemed anyway.”
“Actually, they don’t allow electronics. Remember?”
He waves me off. “We’ll figure it out. Let me be of use, Brookey. I’ll need a good distraction while I wait to get back out on the field, and we both know that isn’t even a guarantee.”
“You’ll play again, Owen. You’re the most resilient person I know. This is just a hiccup.”
“Yeah, we'll see.”
I've rarely seen this side of Owen. Even as he trudged his way through high school and college academics, his glass-half-full attitude was always present. My playful, hopeful Owen. But over the course of only a few days, that normal brightness has dimmed. The Atlanta Hammer management officially pulled back their interest, and Owen is out for an entire season. Something that has never happened in his baseball career.
I may not be a professional baseball player myself, but after ten years of cheering Owen on as he’s chased this dream, I refuse to let him give up now. I’d like him to list the lies he’s told himself—about where he’ll go from here—just so that I can stomp on every single one, reminding him of the fortitude and hopefulness he’s exuded for all the years I’ve known him. Even if it means reminding him every day, I want to help him get back to where he needs to be, mentally and physically.
“You will play again, Owen Jones. I won’t have you thinking otherwise. And I’m certainly not going to let a TV show even possibly get in the way of your recovery. Your future is too important.”
“And what about your future, Brooke?” He pulls my hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles before releasing my hand to rest between us. “How long are you going to put everyone else, your clients, your mom… me… before yourself? Think of what you could do with that money? Pay off your debt. Maybe start your own salon? Go back to school…?”
A wave of guilt rushes over me, bringing a flush of heat to my neck and making me grateful for the single lamp emitting a low light from the kitchen counter, hoping Owen doesn’t notice. He has no idea that I’ve wondered what it would be like to leave Honey Hill. Dreaming of what kind of life I could forge for myself away from the small-town gossip and the reminder that though I’ve lived here for some time now, I’ve never quite felt like I’ll ever belong. My entire purpose for signing up forSuite Hearts, on a whim, was the idyllic dream of starting over somewhere new with the cash prize in hand, knowing eventually when his baseball career took off—and I’ve never doubted it would—Owen would leave Honey Hill, too, then I’d truly have nothing left to keep me here.
“Come on.” His bottom lip pouts before Owen flashes his lashes at me a couple of times. “You and Aiden were gonna do it… I mean…” He clears his throat, and I can’t hold back my laugh.
“Yes?”
“You were going tomarryWolverine, and I know for a fact you like me better.”
“Well, aren’t we awfully sure of ourselves tonight?”
His eyes close again as he tilts his head on the seatback. I’m losing him minute by minute. “He wasn’t the man you were kissing tonight, Babe. So, yeah, I’m pretty confident you like me better.”
He opens his arm for me to come closer, and I slide underneath, pulling my feet out from under him and stretching them to the side. “I like you best.”
“Which is why this makes sense.” Owen kisses the crown of my head. From where I’m quite cozily resting in the crook of his arm, I can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beginning to slow. It’s a perfect, rhythmic movement, hypnotizing my own breaths to meet his. “If you were cool with marrying Aiden, who you admittedly think is a sissy man with long nails and the personality of wet cardboard—”
“Owen—” I roll my eyes.
“If you could do this with him, you absolutely should with me. Let me take care of you for a while, Brooke. It’ll be fun.”
