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The pugs ignored him. Exhausted from the game of fetch he played with them earlier, they were sprawled in a large basket lined with a thick pillow. A basket he just … had.
Like they might come back.
Like her and Ronan were a thing.
And the way he was looking at her — all gentle and kind and … expectant.
She set her fork down, the taste turning bitter.
She had to shut this down. Now.
“Ronan,” she started.
He held up his hand. “Please. Don’t.”
“I must.”
“Lissy—”
“No. Just no.” She slipped out from the bench, putting distance between them. “Today … you caught me at a low point, and I revealed something I shouldn’t’ve. I won’t make that mistake again. Bottom line, Ronan — there is no future with me. I will never marry. Never have kids. I decided that long before you.”
She swallowed, her throat tightening. “And you — you’re a wonderful man. You deserve something good. Something … clean. Someone normal.”
She forced the next words out. “Like Ruth. I am not a Ruth. Never will be.”
“That’s a lot of nevers.” Ronan stayed seated, watching her. “I enjoyed today. I like your company. I like being your friend. If that’s all you can give, then I accept that.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Felicity. Really.”
His gaze held hers. “Your friendship means more than a quick roll in bed. Or stolen kisses. A hell of a lot more.”
A beat of silence followed before he added, “And hear me, because I mean this too — if you ever want to talk about what’s weighing you down, I’ll listen. No judgment. Ever.”
She looked at him, so earnest. So certain.
He meant every word. She could see that.
Maybe that was why she felt so … at ease with him.
He offered a safe place to land. No matter the shit she dished out.
Her eyes blurred with emotion. “I’d like that.”
“Good.” He stood and started clearing their plates. “You up for some rhubarb cobbler and vanilla ice cream?”
It took her a second to reply. “Yeah … I’d like that, too.”
He didn’t comment on her rough voice. Just gave her a smile as he passed, heading up the steps to the kitchen.
*
Felicity chose the bench close to the lake in a patch of sun, the slats still cool from the shade of the nearby tree. Late-morning light poured clean and bright across the park — blue sky without a single apology, trees flushed full green, flowerbeds spilling color.
She set the basket beside her and hooked the leashes on a wooden slat of the bench. Millie settled at her feet with a soft huff, chin on paws, content to watch the world pass. Maggie worked the length of her retractable leash in a slow, methodical patrol, cataloguing scents like it was her job. And Maisie—
Felicity followed the line of that intent stare and sighed.
