‘She was my sister,’ he ground out. ‘And she was the only parent that seven-year-old boy had. I should have been able to do...something.’
His voice cracked suddenly. Unexpectedly.
Flávia didn’t think, she just moved. Closing the gap between them and placing her hand on his forearm as though it could somehow offer him a comfort that no words could. And even when he lowered his head stiffly and stared down at it, as if wondering where the contact had come from, she didn’t move.
Neither did Jake.
‘And now you’re doing the only thing you can. You’re his legal guardian.’
‘Yeah.’ His voice hardened to a grim, self-deprecating edge. ‘Jake Cooper, the guy with the reputation as an emotionally detached workaholic.’
‘But clearly, your sister thought you were the right choice.’
‘Not really. I was just the only choice Helen had.’
‘I can’t imagine...’ Flávia trailed off. ‘So your parents are...have passed away?’
The silence eked out between them. So long and so heavy that Flávia began to wonder if she could say something else until, finally, he spoke.
‘This isn’t a conversation you should be burdened with.’ He was too clipped, too crisp.
Clearly, he didn’t want to be having the conversation with her. But not wanting to and not needing to were two different things. That was something she knew for herself all too well.
‘We should go back,’ he rasped. Still not moving.
And Flávia didn’t answer, yet it was disconcerting the way those deep, dark cacao depths of hers seemed to pierce right through him. It felt as if she could see right through to his very soul.
So she slid her hand gently down his arm, covering his hand with hers, and she waited for him to pull away and head for the door.
But he didn’t move. And he didn’t pull away.
‘I have a sister,’ Flávia murmured at last when she thought he’d passed up enough chances to shut things down for good. ‘Her name is Maria, and she has two daughters. Julianna is nine and Marcie is six, and I love being the fun aunt. We’ve always been a close family.’
‘I’ve never been the fun uncle.’ She suspected that the words were out before he could bite them back.
‘I can’t even begin to think how I would feel if anything happened to any of them,’ Flávia continued softly. ‘I have an apartment in the city for when I’m not at the sanctuary. But most of the time I end up staying at their home, Maria and Luis’s—that’s my brother-in-law. Their guest room seems to have become my personal bedroom and I always get at least one of the girls sneaking in for a sleepover.’
She laughed and even to her own ears the love and warmth of the sound seemed to reverberate around the room. Like it was too big to be contained in this space.
Which was how it always felt to her.
However, Jake wasn’t smiling. He was grimacing. He pulled his hand free and rubbed his eyes wearily.
‘I’m pretty sure Brady couldn’t care less whether I was around or not.’
‘And yet, you just left this gala to make sure he was okay,’ she pointed out.
‘I made a phone call. I hardly dashed across the city.’
‘Why even call, then?’ she challenged softly, though a part of her already knew the answer.
He glowered at her for a moment before reluctantly conceding. ‘I just wanted to call and make sure he hadn’t woken up and panicked or become disoriented in the unfamiliar surroundings.’
‘Does he often wake?’
‘Pretty much never. At least, not any more.’
He didn’t need to voice the words for her to imagine how different things would have been straight after his mother’s death.