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Malcolm brushed her hair back. “It’ll take time. But, Jami, you might never be that vibrant girl you were when we first met.” She stiffened against his hand. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s not a bad thing. The woman you’ve become is amazing.”
“Malcolm…” Her tears returned.
“And I’m certain you’ll become even more amazing as you continue to change and grow.” His thumb caught her tear as it slid free. “I look forward to being there and seeing all of it.”
It wasn’t the declaration he’d been longing to make, but as Jami trusted herself in his arms, he knew he could wait until she was ready to hear it all.
JamiwatchedMalcolmmakeher breakfast in the tavern’s kitchen. Watching him cook did something to her insides, even if he had pulled back his gorgeous hair into a bun again.
“Why don’t you cook for the tavern more?” she asked, ignoring her open laptop since she had better things to look at. “Not that Reggie’s food isn’t good.”
“It’s better if I’m up front,” Malcolm said, plating the pancakes he’d made from scratch and taking the food out to her.
Jami gave him a quick kiss before reaching for her fork. “Could I suggest something?” Nerves danced in her stomach.
His hand moved over hers, and she looked up as his lips met hers again, lingering this time. “Pancakes on the menu?” he murmured as he lifted his head.
Malcolm knew just how to kiss her to make her thoughts seep out of reach. She shook her head even as she scooped up a bite of ambrosia. “I was going to say a brunch service. Maybe on Sundays.”
“Not Sundays.” Malcolm straightened, but his eyes had locked onto hers. His smile, when it came, had a lightness to it she hadn’t seen. Almost boyish. “I have a feeling I’ll start enjoying my day off more now. That’ll be our day, even if you don’t move back in with me right away.”
Jami toyed with her second bite. “Is that what you want?”
“I want to be with you. In whatever way you’re comfortable with for now.” He turned back to grab his own food.
Malcolm would never push her. The food seemed to stick in her throat when she swallowed. A part of her wished he would. Then she could just give in and be happy with him. She was sure living with him would make her happy, but she wasn’t sure if it would be fair to him. She stared down at her hand, gripping the fork too tightly. Sealing the cracks that made up who she was would take time.
Malcolm surprised her by putting his plate in front of the barstool beside her. He often stood while he ate, as if he had too much energy to sit. She moved her laptop to give him more room.
He glanced at the still open screen while he reached for his fork. “Is that a school?”
“Community college,” Jami said. “I used some of my waitressing money to sign up for late semester. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.”
“Do you need fewer hours? I can—”
Jami held up a hand to cut him off. “No, the classes are at night. I just—” She bit her lip, dropping her hand to the counter as she frowned. “I just wanted to talk about it with you.”
His hand moved over hers again, so warm. “It’s a great idea. What were you going to go to college for before the accident?”
“Teaching.” Jami shrugged when he didn’t look surprised. “I used to tutor a lot, especially my sister when it came to English. She was a whiz with numbers.” Her hand turned, its fingers linking with his. “Even before the accident, I looked out for her a lot. My mom was a housewife, but the wife part was what made her light up. My father…” She frowned as she tried to think past the man he’d become. “It wasn’t like he was cold, not exactly, but his emotions only flared for her. Otherwise, he was very logical.” She looked up to meet Malcolm’s eyes, but he was staring down at their hands.
“My parents would rather focus on each other as well.” His lips thinned. “I was often more of a caregiver to Katie. And with Celia…”
Jami studied the tick that had flared in his cheek above his tensed jaw. “They took her in because you asked, didn’t they?”
Malcolm blew out his breath. “I overheard them at the hospital, right after her mother had attacked her. Celia was healing, but still slept a lot. Her body needed it. I walked the halls then—I wasn’t used to sitting still for so long—and I heard them convincing each other that it wasn’t their place to step in for Celia.”
Jami squeezed his hand.
“DCF had already shown up. Celia probably wouldn’t have gone back to live with her mother, not after what had happened. But the least my parents could have done was offer her a place to stay the last couple of years.” Malcolm let out a breath. “They didn’t understand why I remained at the hospital with her. Told me to forget it.” He laughed, the sound brief and filled with loathing. “As if I ever could forget something like that. I convinced them to take her in so I could be there for her, and they did.” His hand tightened on hers. “And that’s all they did. They were never warm to her. I guess the way I looked at them bothered them. They worked more hours to get away from me, only they told Celia it was because they had another mouth to feed. She got a part-time job, but instead of saving up for college, she gave it all to them.”
Jami stared at the computer screen, where one picture of the community college faded into the next.
“By the time I found out, my parents had given most of the money to Katie for her college savings, and she’d spent it already, not knowing. I lost my temper, broke a few things even, but managed to leave the house before I did something I’d regret.” He started to pull his hand away, but Jami squeezed it tighter. His fingers stroked over her knuckles. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand them. Taking advantage of Celia, who—” He choked on the words, looking away.
“Did they do something else?” Jami asked.
Malcolm turned his head back, that vacant look she’d seen before making her chest squeeze.
