Page 35 of Hate To Love You


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“Then I’m happy to stay.” I swallow down another bite and try not to moan in pleasure. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be since I suck in the kitchen…”

“How are your furniture assembly skills?”

“Much better.”

“Good. That’s where I’m terrible. Maxon didn’t get time to put together the baby’s changing table. It was backordered for weeks and it just arrived. So if you don’t mind helping, I’d like to surprise them.”

“No problem.”

We finish up our meal in minutes, then rise from the breakfast bar and head back into the kitchen.

“You start the food. I’ll do our dishes,” I offer.

“You sure?” She seems surprised.

“Yeah. That’s one thing my mother taught me really well.”

With her melodic laughter in my ears, I tackle the dirty plates and pans with a grin. Then it hits me that I enjoy making Bethany smile.

That’s so dangerous…

When I’ve finished loading the dishwasher, I turn to find several casseroles in progress. Lasagna, I recognize. Everything else? I have no clue.

I watch in awe as Bethany tosses together seven dishes without once glancing at a recipe. She makes it look effortless, and she manages to slide lasagna, baked ziti, black bean enchiladas, butternut squash and spinach ravioli, a gumbo bake, and chicken Alfredo pie into the refrigerator ninety minutes later with minimal help from me.

“That was impressive, woman!” Even my mother would have been amazed.

She waves me away. “It was fun. And now all they have to do is heat the casseroles up when they want to eat. Should we tackle this changing table before it gets too dark?”

“Lead the way.”

Bethany and I hit the garage and find Maxon’s tool stash, then we head for the baby’s nursery. I stop in the doorway. Soft grays and cheerful white fill the space, accented with a touch of pink and topped off with a chandelier. Everything looks plush and inviting and ready for the arrival of their newborn—except the changing table still in pieces.

We find the instructions. They’re written in pseudo-English that’s almost impossible to follow. After a lot of confusion—I hate cam bolts—and laughter at the puny Allen wrench included, we finish assembling the changing table. Together, we move the piece to the blank wall by the window and complete the task by filling the appointed cubbies with stacks of tiny diapers and packs of baby wipes.

Clean-up takes less than five minutes. The sun is just setting. Our timing is perfect.

“Everything looks great. They’re going to be so happy.” Bethany looks my way, wearing a smile. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. This baby is going to be so loved, I can tell.”

“Yeah.” She sounds wistful.

I turn to her. “You okay?”

She shrugs as she flips off the light and leads me back into the great room. “Still emotional, I guess. Since we left the birthing center, I’ve felt jumbled and I’ve been trying to put my finger on what’s bugging me. My life is a mess. I have no one to blame but myself for that. But this is something else.” She tilts her head and regards me with solemn eyes. “Have you ever believed something deep down, then been stunned when you’ve realized it wasn’t true?”

“Can’t say I have.”

She sighs. “Then what I’m thinking probably won’t make sense.”

“Try me. Doesn’t mean I can’t listen.” Is she somehow realizing that stealing would, in fact, hurt people? Is she grasping that by swindling her clients with her father she did wrong?

Bethany manages a hint of a smile. “You’re a really amazing guy, you know. Tell me again, why aren’t you taken?”

“I haven’t been looking. What about you? You’re smart, kind, and hardworking. Why aren’t you taken?”

“I haven’t been looking, either.”

“So what’s bugging you, Beth?”

She sighs. “I hate to dump this on you, but right now you’re my only friend. I mean, that I’m not related to.”

She sounds as if she’s apologizing for having feelings. Or for wanting to share them. That disturbs me. So does hearing that she has almost no one in her life to talk to. Her admission should make me happy because I can exploit her loneliness to my advantage. Instead, I have to fight the urge to wrap her in my arms and assure her she’s not alone anymore.

“Go on.”

“It’s hard to put into words.” Bethany shrugs. “Maybe this will sound odd. But I’m still stunned and in awe from witnessing Kailani’s birth.”

“I feel the same,” I admit. “But mostly stunned. I wasn’t expecting all that.”

Her light laughter surrounds me. “I’ll bet. Sorry you got way more than you bargained for.”

“Yeah, but it was…profound. It’s something I’ll never forget.”

She nods. “The way it made me feel is a lot to process.”

“Because?”

“I spent so long thinking I’d never have what Maxon and Keeley or any of my other siblings have. Marriage and babies were for someone else. I had a world to conquer. I had a glass ceiling to raise. I had an empire to learn. Nothing else really mattered. If I ever felt twinges of wistfulness for more, I always had plenty of work to squash them. All that was fine until I came here. My brothers and sister have these great marriages. And to hear them tell their stories, none of them reached this point without overcoming a lot of hardship, conflict, adversity, and fear.”

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