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“Nine,” she said instantly. “Harvey has four kids. Elliot, three, and Drake has the twins.”
He looked at her, but Ginny couldn’t meet his gaze. Her blood felt too hot, but that could’ve been because he was the most handsome man she’d ever met, or because of what Olli had advised her to do.
“Should we go?” he asked. “We’re already a little late.”
“I don’t care,” Ginny said, immediately sighing. She studied the bright yellow star Grace had poured gold glitter onto. That thing had flaked glitter onto Ginny’s floor for a week before it was all done, and she grasped onto that memory and held it tight.
“Are we not going then?” Cayden asked, his voice smooth and proper.
“No, we’ll go,” she said. “I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.” She couldn’t stare at the wall while she did, and she turned toward him. He wore a pure black cowboy hat with his tux, and with his perfectly trimmed beard, those dark eyes, and a look of interest in them, Ginny found her courage.
“I’ve been pretending with you,” she said. “Just like I do everyone else in my life. I hate it.”
His eyes widened, and Ginny couldn’t blame him. Even when they texted, she didn’t tell him much. He hadn’t even known how many nieces and nephews she had, and he’d been taking her to events all over Kentucky for over two months.
“When we go out, it’s not reallyusgoing out,” she said. “I tell you about all the major players, and what’s going on at Sweet Rose, and my word, you must be bored out of your mind.” She watched him for a sign that she’d lied, but he didn’t give one.
“I don’t like this,” she said, really on a roll now. “I want to go out with you, just the two of us. No gowns, and no tuxedos, and no expectations. I want to wear jeans—or pants with an elastic waist—and the ugliest Christmas sweater I can find, and the ugliest pair of shoes in my closet, simply because they’re comfortable.”
“Okay,” he said. “That’s fine, Ginny. We can do that.”
Hope lifted her eyebrows, and she knew reality would come crashing down sooner or later. It always did. “Can we?”
“Of course.”
“You never ask me out.”
“You’ve told me you don’t have time,” he said, his eyebrows folding in over his eyes. “What did you expect me to do?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed and stepped into his arms. “I realized while we stood in the foyer looking at one another that everything between us isn’t real. I slip into this fake persona when I’m with you, because we only go to events where that’s who I am.” She looked up at him, the warmth and width of his hands on her waist setting her pulse to bumping again.
“This is not your fault,” she said. “It’s mine. One hundred percent.”
He nodded, not arguing with her, which only made Ginny feel worse than she already did. She drew in a deep breath of him, getting leather and something fresh, along with a bit of fruitiness that had her mouth salivating to taste his mouth and see what kind of toothpaste he used.
“All right,” she said. “We better go.” She started to step away from him, but his arms tightened around her, and she paused.
“You smell amazing,” he whispered, dropping his head and letting the brim of his cowboy hat trail along the side of her head as he got closer to her. “I want you to know my feelings for you haven’t changed. I am ready whenever you are, and I’m willing to wait if you’re not.”
She nodded, enjoying this close, intimate moment with him. She didn’t have many of them, with very many people. Ginny could not remember the last person she’d felt like this with who she wasn’t related to or who wasn’t Olli.
“All right, Ginny,” he said, his voice still soft and whole and perfect. “You can tell me about your nieces and nephews on the drive to the restaurant.”
She nodded, though she didn’t want to talk about her nieces and nephews. She sure did love them, because she knew she wouldn’t have children of her own and they brought her some form of maternal joy. If she spoke of them too much, though, her sadness over her own situation would manifest itself, and as Ginny had no defense against Cayden and his questions, she’d end up telling him everything.
Would that be so bad?she asked herself as he helped her into her white, fake-fur shawl, offered her his arm, and led her outside to his truck. By the time she got there, she’d answered herself.
No, it wouldn’t be so bad, but he might not want you anymore if he knows you can’t have his children.
Chapter Eighteen
Cayden Chappell once again dressed himself in a fancy suit and a shiny pair of shoes. He combed his hair though it would stay under a cowboy hat, and he brushed his teeth until they sparkled like pearls.
Downstairs, he went into the kitchen, whistling. He didn’t mind the dressing up and the polishing. He got to see and smell and talk to Ginny Winters every time he did, and he glanced back down the hall that led to the two bedrooms here on the main level of the homestead. She’d stayed in Spur’s bedroom for four nights back in October, and Cayden reflected on them often.
He’d enjoyed seeing her in the morning and helping her get a cup of coffee before their day really started.
He didn’t hate the events she’d dragged him to this holiday season either. The food was good, as she’d promised, and she was great company.
