I never thought I’d see the day I was jealous of a canine, but here it was. I bent and reached toward the dog, but it growled and whined, and I carefully straightened. “Okay, then.”
“His name is Brutus,” Noah said softly. The dog whined again when Noah scratched his ear and looked up at Noah like he was the only thing in the whole world worth loving. I could concur with the mutt. “He doesn’t like anyone being loud,” Noah said, and I felt guilty all over again.
Rubbing my face, I couldn’t get enough of the sight of Noah as he crouched to hug the dog. I felt both better and worse somehow. He was right here, but I couldn’t do any of the things I wanted. Not without possibly making this worse.
“I said I was sorry,” I grumbled. “Do you accept my apology?”
Tilting his head, he glanced up at me. “I do. I get behaving badly, but it took a long time for you to admit it. I don’t think things can go back to the way they were.” His firm tone made it clear he wasn’t backing down.
My first instinct was to push. Fight. Power toward whatever I decided my end goal should be. Try to force things to go the way I wanted them. But that bullheadedness had caused at least half this problem in the first damned place. He looked so fucking good, and I wanted to do something—anything. I scratched at the back of my neck. “Do you want to have dinner with me?”
“I already ate. It’s late. You didn’t?” There was concern in his eyes when he glanced at me, and that gave me some hope.
I shrugged.
“This isn’t fair.” He stood and shook his head.
“I don’t understand. I just bought you a new Charger.”
He rubbed at his temple, but he wasn’t slamming the door in my face, so that was good. “You hurt me. I thought maybe you loved me like I was beginning to love you.”
My stomach lurched and all at once I was glad I’d missed dinner. “You were starting to love me. You don’t now?”
He covered his eyes with his hand and sighed. “I do still love you.”
“Good. I love you, too,” I blurted, and while I hadn’t thought of it like that until now, that must be what was making me feel like I’d swallowed glass. It was terrible, and I wasn’t sure why everyone went on and on about it, but maybe it was also what had been making me so happy when things were good. “So, come home. I want you in my bed at night.”
Noah snorted. “You kicked me out and threw me away. You told Antoine I should go back to my dad. And you know what he’s like.”
“I didn’t mean that,” I gasped out. “You gave me that painting. At first I was so happy with it. Then you told me I would still have it when I couldn’t have you anymore and it went from nice to a... a fuckin’ kiss-off. And maybe you didn’t mean it that way, but it felt that way. You wanted to leave me.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then come back.” I was sounding desperate and didn’t even care.
“So the next time you’re angry you can kick me out again without even talking it through first? You don’t respect me enough to have a conversation with me.” He studied me, and I felt like an inchworm.
“I did the wrong thing. Before that day, I’d been hoping you’d forget about the divorce. I wasn’t planning to bring it up again if you didn’t.” I felt absolutely miserable at the way he dropped his hand and stared at me like I was the dumbest person he’d ever met.
“You really thought we could justnever talk about it, ever?”
The ceiling was interesting when I glanced up there. I found a spiderweb and a divot that might have been caused by someone moving furniture. “Yep.”
It was a shock when Noah barreled into me. His arms around me nearly murdered me off right there because they felt so good I about died. His breath tickled my neck and the best heat fired through my body. I hadn’t felt this good since the last time I was with him. He snagged my hand and kissed my wedding ring. I wanted his lips, but he buried his face against my chest, and I didn’t care how I got him, so long as he was holding on to me. I hauled him more firmly into my arms.
“Please come home. Please. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m not just coming back.”
Some of the terrible doom and gloom that had been dragging me down returned. “Okay.”
“But you can date me.”
“I can? Mr. Divine, that’s right nice of you,” I said, laying the Texas on thick. If I jumped in the air I might float away.
He laughed and tilted his face up, cheeks pink. My heart skipped. “It’s still Bouchard. I didn’t change it back. I’d rather be mistaken for your husband than my dad’s son.” He shrugged an elegant shoulder, and my stomach heated. He was so beautiful to simply watch. Every movement was nearly edible. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him.
“When can I see you again?” I whispered into his ear.
