Page 32 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

I shake my head. “It seemed pointless.”

“You never wished for her to come back?”

“No. I’m sure that makes me a horrible daughter, but she broke me. She made everything I thought I knew about family and love into a lie. I was too brokenhearted.” Emotions stack up inside me, but I want him to know the real me, even if not by name. “I could barely figure out how to breathe without her. Nothing made sense, and the only way to get past that was to accept that she made her choice knowing exactly what it would do to us. If her leaving taught me one thing, it’s that wishes aren’t always meant to come true.”

“I hate that you feel that way.” He rubs his nose along mine and kisses me softly.

His tone is pure understanding, which should comfort me, and it does, but coming from a family that brushes things under the carpet and soldiers on, I’m not used to it. So I turn the tables, hoping to do just that. “Don’t be. You don’t even remember wishing on stars. They’re not that important. I mean, what are wishes, anyway? They’re whimsical, fleeting hopes you send out to the universe. You have no control over them, unlike dreams, which are goals and aspirations, and in my eyes, far more important. Even if, as a kid, some dreams seem wildly impossible and unattainable, they’re still goals.”

His brows knit. “I never thought about it that way.”

“Look at me teaching the man who built an empire something new.” That earns a sexy smile. “Did you have any wild, impossible dreams when you were a kid?”

“I never wanted to be an astronaut, if that’s what you mean. But I did have epic dreams. I wanted to learn skills that would make me totally self-sufficient in life and business. I’m not the type to live in the woods and kill for my dinner, although I learned those skills because my parents were teaching them, and as you know, I’m a freak for learning new things.”

“Life, I get, but what does that mean for business? You wanted to wield a calculator like a pro? Use spreadsheets to take over the world?”

“You never know when life skills will help in business.” He grins. “I wanted to be able to do everything. I learned to tie knots and build shelters before I could spell them, and I could navigate by compass and constellations before I had a driver’s license. Maybe not as well as Flynn, but that’s okay. I picked up bits of languages everywhere we lived—at least enough to trade, negotiate, or get myself out of trouble. That’s a great life and business skill, by the way. If something broke, I didn’t want to wait on anyone to fix it. It didn’t matter if it was a fishing spear or an engine, and that’s another thing. If it moved, I wanted to learn to drive it. Not only cars and trucks, but boats, planes, and helicopters.”

The passion in his voice tells me exactly how important this is to him. “And did you? Can you do all those things?”

“Hell yes. If I set a goal, I’m going to achieve it.”

I’ve known that about him for years. “We’re alike in that way, even if my achievements are smaller and more family bound. But if you can do all that, was the story Missick told me about you almost spearing your foot not true?”

“No. It was true, but it wasn’t because I couldn’t do it. As I said, I didn’t want to kill the fish, and I did slip on a rock trying to avoid them.”

Sighing inwardly, I want to crawl inside this man and never leave. “You really do have the skills of a shark and the heart of a dolphin. Does this mean you’re an adventurer at heart, too?”

“Maybe a little, but it was never about adventure. It was about control. Knowing I could fix, drive, or survive almost anything.”

“Why? Most people who feel that way are afraid of being left behind, but that doesn’t seem like it fits for you, since your parents went to great lengths to be with you.”

“I don’t really know why I’m this way. I just know that being needed has always felt good. But needing someone else has always felt like a weakness.”

I want to tell him that needing someone isn’t a weakness, it’s human, because that’s what a therapist told me when I went to see her after Cody left me at the altar. But the words won’t come, because I know what it feels like to build walls out of competence, to hide behind the safety of self-reliance. And worse, I know the cost of letting someone in and being left waiting to start a future that never comes.

“I feel that way, too,” I finally say.

“No wonder we’re so good together,” he says easily, and kisses me. “Now it’s your turn, sweets. Did you have big childhood dreams?”

I wanted to see the world. Every country, forgotten cities, all the small towns that most people overlooked. I wanted to see sunrises from mountains and sunsets from beaches, to walk dirt paths that have been worn by generations and touch walls carved by hands centuries before mine. I want to collect moments in all those places that can only be felt and not seen. I want to share all of that with him right now, but it’s all tied to my mother, and I’m not going to let thoughts of her drag us down again.

“I had a few. When I was seven, I wanted to be a ballet dancer, because a girl in my class was taking lessons and she had cute ballet shoes. My parents signed me up, but unlike you, Mr. Dedicated, halfway through the first class, I decided it was too much hard work and not enough play time, so that didn’t last long.”

He laughs. “You just had other priorities.”

“That’s being generous. The thing is, I realized I didn’t even want the shoes. I wanted to draw them. And as far as other dreams went, mine changed all the time.” Until after my mother left, when they pretty much came to a standstill. “But one thing stayed consistent. I wanted to draw everything I saw, and not only objects like ballet shoes. I’d see places on TV or on the internet, exotic locations or small towns, and I’d imagine what those places would look like and feel like if I were there, and I’d draw them.”

“Is that what you do with your graphic design work?”

“For the most part. I can’t help but put an emotional spin on the things I’m hired to draw.”

“Will you draw the places and things we’ve seen this weekend?” he asks thoughtfully.

“Yes, at some point. When an unfairly handsome man isn’t distracting me. Not that I’m complaining.”

He grins. “Want to know what I think?”