Page 17 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

“That’s an unforgettable sound,” he says with a smile. “A hallmark of my youth.”

“We have that in common.” My smile fades with the rest of the story. “But I never got to tell my mom that story, and I’ve never told anyone else, until now. It was my secret. One beautiful thing to hold on to.”

“A beacon of hope in a life that stopped making sense after your mom left.”

I swallow hard against the emotions his understanding brings. “Yeah,” I say softly.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m sorry your mom wasn’t the mother you deserved.”

His words burrow deep, but I don’t want my mother’s leaving to take over this night. Sitting up taller, I try to play it off like it doesn’t still hurt. “Don’t be. It was a long time ago, and it made me stronger. Now she and that man, whom she never married, live on a communal farm in Virginia, and she calls from time to time, but she has her life and I have mine.”

The words hang between us, leaving me a little too raw, so I reach for lighter ground. “And the silver lining? That’s when I started volunteering at the animal shelter, which, believe it or not, was great therapy. That place became my safe haven.”

“In what way?”

In every way seems too easy an answer. If I’ve learned one thing talking to Seth, it’s that he doesn’t let easy answers go without explanation. I rarely allow myself to revisit those painful times, but with him, they’re not quite as hard.

“My dad was trying to hold everything together for us, and the age differences between us kids were just enough to make me the annoying younger sister.” I know I have to mention Taylor, so I split Becca’s real emotions between her and our fictitious older brother. “Taylor isn’t one to share his feelings, and Becca never stews over anything, so they went on living their lives, going out with friends, pretending everything was fine. Or that’s how it seemed to me. Anyway, with Dad telling me to buck up, that we’d get through it, and the others doing their own thing, I felt…alone. Being with the animals at the shelter filled that gap.”

“My dad used to say, never underestimate the healing power of dogs and cats, excluding big jungle cats, of course.”

I smile. “Smart man.”

“There’s that beautiful smile. How many animals did you adopt from the shelter?”

“None. My dad couldn’t afford any extra mouths to feed.”

He nods. “And now? Do you have pets?”

“No, I don’t think I could handle raising a pet and then losing it, but I still volunteer at the shelter, and sometimes, if I’m feeling particularly lonely, I bring a dog home for the night. That can be a little trying, depending on the dog, but it’s worth it.”

Something sharp and warm flickers in Seth’s eyes, like he’s filing that piece of me away.

Realizing how much of myself I’ve revealed, I try to shift the conversation. “What about you? Where is your safe haven?”

He’s quiet for a minute, and I can practically see the gears in his head churning, as if he’s analyzing the question and his possible responses to it. “I’ve never really had one.”

I frown, curiosity tugging at me. If he had an office, I’d think that might be his safe haven, but he doesn’t. He finds them too confining and prefers to meet business colleagues in their offices or in restaurants or other properties he owns. But I’m surprised he doesn’t consider one of his homes a safe haven. “You don’t feel that way about your home, or Ridgeport?”

“I love being in Ridgeport, but I don’t really get attached to places in that way. If I have a safe haven, it’s my family. They keep me grounded.” He pauses, studying me. “You mentioned being lonely. Does that mean you don’t date often?”

My pulse kicks up, those blue eyes holding mine so intensely, I wonder if he can hear my heart thundering. “Not very often. You?” As I ask, I realize I don’t know much about his personal life. It’s never mentioned on social sites, whereas his business life is. I’ve never even seen a picture of him and a woman who isn’t a family member or business associate.

“Not very often,” he parrots, steady and sure. “Want to know what I think?”

His thumb skims along the side of my hand, sending heat slithering through me. I pick up movement in my peripheral vision as two couples walk past, but I can’t take my eyes off Seth.

Before I can respond to his question, he says, “I think we were meant to meet.”

His words lodge in my chest, and I become acutely aware of everything. The band’s pulsing beat, the feel of Seth’s thigh brushing mine, his shoulder angling toward me, like he’s mapping out what might come next. A voice in my head says to tell him who I really am, but if he knew the truth, it could blow up my life, and even if it didn’t, he’d see me as his assistant, not as a woman. I want to know what it feels like to be wanted by Seth more than I want my next breath. Just this once, I allow myself to be selfish for the weekend.

Tucking the truth down deep, I say, “Why? Do you know something I don’t?”

His grin turns a little wicked as he leans in. “Maybe I do.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” I say, tipping closer.

His gaze drops to my mouth, lingering long enough to make me want him even more. When his eyes meet mine, the heat and hunger in them steal my ability to think. He reaches up and caresses my cheek, sending a shiver of heat through my core, as he says, “I’m sure about this.”