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So, this is what he’s out here thinking about. I run my hand over his five-o’clock shadow. It’s prickly, and it’s hard not to wonder what it would feel like on my skin if he was kissing all over my body. I’m pretty sure this is the conversation where he tells me he’s noticed all the looks I’ve given him today and how it changes nothing. He wants to make sure I don’t have any expectations that will cause me to be hurt, and I respect that.
“I think it’s ridiculous that you only see your worth through your job, but you don’t have to worry about me. I don’t have us halfway down the aisle because you can keep a Girl Scout troop enthralled for an afternoon. Although it is very impressive.”
The flame ignites enough to light up his face and allow me to see his smile at my compliment. I think maybe he doesn’t have a lot of people in his life who tell him how great he is.
“I never want to hurt you. So far, this town has welcomed me, you especially, and I’d hate myself if I left you hurting more than when I arrived.” His hand lifts my jacket and shirt, his fingers running a figure eight on the side of my stomach. “But that doesn’t mean my attraction to you isn’t at a point that I struggle to contain myself at times. If the flirting bothers you—”
“No. I like it. Probably too much. I’ve been up at night a lot lately, thinking about what I want to do with you.”
He waggles his eyebrows. “Mutual, babe. Mutual.”
I chuckle. “I mean, if I want to cross that line, if I’m ready, and… well, only a few people know what I’m about to tell you.”
“Brin…” His voice makes it clear he’s giving me an out.
“I want to.” I rest my head on his shoulder and stare into the fire. This will be so much easier if I don’t look at him. “About a year after Sawyer died, everyone was on me about moving on and how I couldn’t mourn him forever. How I was so young, and he would want me to move on. Yada, yada, something I’m sure all young widows hear. So one night, I went to a bar in Anchorage where no one would know me. I dressed to pick up a guy and hung out at the bar all night.” His body stiffens under me, but I continue, wanting him to understand why this is such a hard line for me to cross. “A guy approached me, offered to buy me a drink.”
“Brinley, is this gonna make me want to go find someone and kick his ass?”
“No, I promise, but thank you for the offer.” I kiss his stubbly cheek and rest my head back down where his lips land on my forehead. “So, we spend a couple hours laughing, listening to the live band. I purposely don’t drink a lot, and from what I saw, he was nursing his drink as well. At the time, I thought I couldn’t ask for a better guy.”
I swallow down the embarrassment of what comes next because if Van and I are going to cross that line at some point, he needs to be aware of what might happen.
He’s quiet and patient and doesn’t rush me.
“At the end of the night, he asked if I wanted to go back to his place. I followed him in my car because I didn’t want to be stranded. I never went off the pill after Sawyer passed away and I brought a box of condoms just in case. He drove to a nice house on the water. Come to find out, he was there on business and his company put him up there. I thought it was perfect—I could sleep with him and never see him again.”
“But no?” His deep voice rumbles in his chest.
I shake my head against his chest. “No. We talked, and I barely drank the drink he fixed me because I was so nervous. I went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror and told myself I could do this. But I was far from ready. I’d been comparing him to Sawyer the entire night. But when I opened the bathroom door, he was standing against the wall and he held out his hand and asked if I wanted to join him upstairs. I accepted.”
His hand tightens on my hip, and his jaw clenches where it rests on top of my head.
“I’m sorry, maybe—”
“No, continue.” His voice comes out hoarse.
“We went upstairs, and he was really gentle with me, wasn’t urgent in any way. He slowly undressed me and took off his own clothes because I was so in my head about everything that was going on. I told him I had condoms, and he laughed, saying he could take care of that. He disappeared into the closet and came out with a brand-new box, meaning he came on the business trip intending to hook up with someone. Or I don’t know, maybe he was just hopeful.” My eyes burn from tears that will flood out when I say the next part.
“Hey, there’s no judging here,” Van says. “I can’t imagine what it was like for you. Only you can. Don’t feel like you have to finish.”
I sit up but continue to stare at the fire. “He hovered over me and did some foreplay to try to get me into it, but I think he could tell I wasn’t reciprocating. I just froze trying to keep my distress to myself because there was so much guilt building up inside me because I thought I shouldn’t enjoy it. Sawyer was dead, and there I was, naked with another man. I lay there the entire time reprimanding myself for disrespecting my husband.” I wipe the tears falling down my cheeks. “Finally, he put on the condom and just as he was about to enter me, a strangled cry ripped out of me, and he backed off, sitting back on his ankles. I lay there naked and told him the entire story. How I just wanted to get it over with. He tried to get me to relax, drew me a bath, but nothing worked. Eventually I apologized profusely, got dressed, and raced out of there.” Shame and embarrassment flood my body, and my cheeks heat despite the chilly night air.
Van pulls me into him, kissing the top of my head and resting his lips there. “I’m sorry, Brinley. I can’t imagine.”
I draw back and place my hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, is what I’m saying. I’m really attracted to you, and I want you so bad. But what if…”
He shakes his head. “We’re taking this slow, and I’m fine with that pace. If it doesn’t happen, it’s fine.”
“What I’m saying is that I want it to be you. I want you to be my first after him.”
He inhales a big breath and lets it go.
“I’m not saying take me on this log. I’m just saying that before you leave, I want us to share being together because, under normal circumstances, we probably would’ve already. And all I want is to be normal.” My voice cracks on the last sentence.
His eyes glue to mine as if he’s thinking about it.
I’ve never had chemistry like I do with him, not even with Sawyer, though I would never tell another soul that part. With Van coming into this town and making me laugh, really laugh for the first time since Sawyer’s death, I can’t help but feel as if he was sent here just for me. And if we can’t have a happily ever after, I at least always want to remember him as the man who pulled me out of my grief and helped me move on from the past.
