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Elizabeth smiled as she handed me the second car seat. “I guess that depends on your definition of love… beingin loveisnice, but the trust and the devotion and the security that comes with reallylovingsomeone and not quitting on them? That's the real magic.” She waved her sons over. One of them was about six, the other maybe three. “Maybe when yours get older, they can all play together. See you next week?”
I smiled politely. “Yeah. I guess so.”
The more I thought about what Elizabeth said, the more it stuck in my head. What was my definition of love? Did I really want chemistry and fireworks? Or did I want someone I could rely on? Someone I could trust?
Could I trust Andrew? We had lived together for a little over a month. He had proven himself trustworthy.
Andrew and I hadn't had sex since our hookup that fated night, and he hadn't made any effort to reinitiate anything with me. If he wasn't trying to sleep with me, what exactly did he want out of this arrangement? How did this benefit him? Why was he being so generous with me? Was he hoping we would stay together and be a family?I knew he felt guilty, but my gut told me there was more to it than that. Did he want the boys to be part of his life? If he did, why did he keep mentioning me going back to New Jersey when I was ready?
I don’t know, because he barely says a word to me.I sighed and put in one of the Vivaldi cassettes that Sarah Greenwood had dropped off.
I took the boys to the grocery store, picking up what I needed to make a stir-fry for dinner, and tried to figure out how I was going to drag answers out of Andrew Greenwood.
CHAPTER TEN
The next few months passed in a blur. The boys got bigger and louder, and I continued taking them to church and coffee with the young mothers in the community. My evening ritual with Andrew continued as it had before. Time moved impossibly fast; I blinked, and one day they were crawling and sitting up on their own.
When I woke up on one Monday morning, something felt strange. There was a quiet weight in the air. I rolled over and looked at the little clock on the wall—
And jumped out of bed. It was nearly ten o’clock.Why haven’t the boys woken me up yet?I scrambled out of bed andnearly crashed into the twin’s bedroom, my brain instantly going to the worst possible scenario, but I stopped in the doorway to see the room was empty.
Had they climbed out of the crib? Impossible. They just started crawling, but weren’t standing up yet.
I hurried out of the nursery to the living room to find Andrew sitting in the middle of the floor, Jacob in his lap chewing on a plastic spoon, and Matthew on his back holding a small stuffed wolf. Andrew was attempting to read a picture book to the boys, who were pointedly ignoring him.
He paused in his recitation of the three little pigs when he saw me. His dark eyes slowly traveled up my body, his observation so intense I could almost feel it.
It also reminded me I was wearing panties and a long t-shirt, and nothing else. I refused to shift or hide myself under his scrutiny. I mean, he’d seen me naked and in all kinds of compromising positions, right?
His eyes met mine. “Good morning, Sugar.”
I swallowed and exhaled steadily as I tried to get my heart rate back under control. The way he was staring at me a minute ago did not help my adrenaline fade any.
“You scared me,” I said, and took a step closer. “You should have woken me up.”
“We were fine,” he answered. “They ate their cereal. I figured I’d let you sleep.”
“You’re staying home today?”
“We were supposed to pour cement today, but…” Outside, a crack of thunder illustrated his point.
The adrenaline started to fade, and I suddenly felt tired. I sat down beside Matthew, who grinned at me and threw his wolf at my face. I tried to catch it, but he had pretty bad aim considering he was barely six months old, and it flew over my shoulder.
“Be careful, son,” Andrew scolded quietly, and I turned and crawled over to get the wolf. “You respect your history and your namesake.”
“What do you mean by that?” I fetched the stuffed animal and handed it back to Matthew, who put the wolf’s nose in his mouth and chewed happily.
“We’re Wolf clan,” he said softly. “Leaders, protectors, alphas, and providers.”
“Wow,” I said, but wasn’t sure what else to say. I didn’t know anything about the tribe or the clans, or anything like that. I studied him as he watched Matthew chew his stuffed wolf. Andrew had his hair tied back in a long black braid today. He wore it that way most days, and took it down when he got home from work.
“Do you ever cut your hair?” I asked.
“No.” He answered immediately.
“You’venevercut it?”
“Never. I have the privilege and the right to keep it long. My ancestors did not. I keep it long out of respect for those who had no choice. Our braids hold our lives and our stories. Our ancestors believed our soul lived in our hair. When they were forced to cut it… well.” He looked down at Jacob, running his hand gently over the shock of black hair on the top of his head that was quickly thickening.
