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“Yeah.” She winces and sniffs. “We do, Jack.”
I sigh and lean in to kiss her forehead. God, she smells good.
“I messed up, sweets,” I admit in a low voice. “I messed up really bad, and I regret it more than I can tell you. I’m so sorry that I hurt you. More than that, I’m sorry that I lost your trust.”
She swallows hard but doesn’t deny it.
“I don’t want to start over,” I continue softly. “I don’t want to do that because it would basically negate everything we had before, and it was damn good before, Daph.”
She grins. “We were babies.”
“Maybe so, but it was still great. The best thing that ever happened to me. So, I don’t want to start over. But I do want to begin again.”
“Oh, Jack, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I know that it means you’ll have to trust me. And maybe you’re not ready for that yet. But I’ll earn it. In the meantime, I want to get to know you better. I want to just be with you, sweets.”
“Every single time you called me that before,” she admits softly, “it turned my knees to Jell-O. You always used to give me butterflies.”
I step closer, dragging my fingertips up and down her arm. “Is that only in the past tense?”
“I’m not telling you all my secrets, Jackson Pruitt.”
I laugh, enjoying everything about her.
“Fair enough. Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Like, on a date?”
“Hell, yes. On a date.”
She seems to mull it over and then shrugs. “Okay. But I want to wear a fancy dress and heels and drink champagne.”
“Expensive date, it is.” I laugh when she waggles her eyebrows. “You always did like to dress up.”
“I still do. If there was a market for antique clothing, I’d sell it.”
“There isn’t?”
“Not really. It’s a very niche market, so I leave it to others and just focus on furniture.”
“I’ll pick you up at six. Should I get you here or at the shop?”
“Here,” she says with a small smile. “Thanks.”
“No, thank you.” I kiss her forehead again and then make myself back away. “I’d better go. If you need anything, or if anything happens, call me.”
“Okay.”
She walks me to the door and is still watching me drive away when I take off down the street.
Instead of driving back to Oliver’s for the night, I detour to Lucien and Millie’s place in the Garden District.
Their house is big and old, and if what they told me the other night is true, they lived in it in a previous life.
Who am I to say it isn’t true? I’ve seen some crazy things in this life.
I climb the stairs and knock on the door, but as soon as my knuckles hit the wood, it opens, and Millie grins at me.
“Did you know I was coming?”
“I’m psychic, remember?” She laughs at my blank look. “Kidding. No, I didn’t know you were coming, but I saw your lights when you pulled in. Is Daph with you?”
“No, I just left her. And I don’t know what made me come over here, other than I’m restless and want to talk.”
“Then come on in.” She steps back, and just as I walk inside, Lucien descends their grand staircase. He’s in a T-shirt and shorts, his hair a mess, and he pushes his black-rimmed glasses up his nose.
“Hey, Jack.”
“Hi.”
“Jack’s lovesick and wanted to come over to talk about Daphne.”
“I, uh…” I scowl and push my hand through my hair. “That’s not why I’m here.”
Millie laughs and takes my hand, tugging me into a library off the foyer and offering me a seat.
“Holy shit, that’s a lot of books.”
“A lot,” Millie agrees as Lucien pours a snifter of brandy and passes it to me.
“What do you want to talk about?” Lucien asks as he sits with a glass of his own. “You didn’t come here just to say hello.”
“No, I didn’t.” I lean my elbows on my knees and stare down into the brandy. “I love her.”
Millie smiles serenely, and Lucien waits as if there’s more to be said.
“That’s it.”
“Is there a problem?” Lucien asks. “Of course, you love her. She’s meant for you.”
“Is she? Or is this part of the game?” I look up at both of them, then stand and pace the room. “Am I being manipulated by this piece of shit?”
“Do you honestly think that what you feel for her isn’t real?” Millie demands with a scowl. “Good grief, Jack, you’ve been in love with her for years. Why would what’s happening now change that?”
“Maybe I’m crazy,” I mutter, shaking my head. “And I know I sound like an asshole. I don’t mean to. I had a great day with Daphne today, and we cleared the air about a lot of things. I’m even taking her out tomorrow for dinner.”
