He could tell the idea upset her, perhaps because of her own experiences.
“Do you think you’re feeling this way because of your husband? Afraid to trust people could really love each other and be honest? I would apologize for asking such a personal question, but our lives are already tangled up—and they will be forever.” He needed to know what was going on with her. Wanted to understand.
“It’s okay. You’re not saying anything I haven’t already wondered, too. Life is just so…” She bit her lip and waved her hand in the air.
“Complicated,” he offered, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. At the touch, he saw her eyes widen. Dropping her hand, he smiled at her encouragingly.
She grabbed her coffee mug, holding tight to the handle. “Definitely. I take it you don’t think there were any feelings between them until recently.”
“I think if there were, they didn’t act on them. I know none of this changes who my mother was or how much she loved her kids.” He could feel emotions pull at him—the pain of losing his mother and sister so palpable.
“That’s beautiful.”
“The stew was one of her recipes. She only taught me and Breanna how to make it. She said just the oldest children—son and daughter—got to have the recipe.”
His throat tightened and his eyes grew heavy with feeling. The conversation wasn’t supposed to go here. Broderick ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure.
Fraying nerves made all the colors in the room too bright.
Glancing at his drained mug, he got up from his seat and headed to the coffeepot. He focused on the darkness of the drink, the way the aroma filled the air.
Broderick needed his defenses back up if he was going to make it through the remaining days with Glenna. But damn the next few days. He needed to figure out his next few words.
Reality pushed hard on him.
* * *
Glenna couldn’t help but make the most of the chance to study Broderick as he walked across the cabin’s living space to refill his coffee. With his back to her, he reached for the carafe, his shoulders heaving with a heavy sigh.
In that moment, she realized that she’d pushed on a wound in his personal life that hadn’t healed, still caused so much pain. Part of her considered giving him space, but a larger part of her accepted that she needed to know more. With his proposition looming between them and the DNA test due any moment, she had decisions to make.
Despite telling him no, she couldn’t help but consider his offer of starting something long-term with him, to join forces for Fleur and the company—and for that explosive attraction between them. What he said made sense. But still she balked, craving a sign.
Wanting to understand him better.
Needing to tend to this wound he’d been dealt.
She understood what it was like to be emotionally raw. And really understood the value of sharing the painful memories, of giving them breath and life. So difficult, but she would push a little bit more, a little more gently.
Glenna set aside her laptop and shoved back her chair to join him at the counter. She rested a tentative hand on his solid biceps. “I’m sorry if I pushed too much with the personal questions.”
“No need to apologize. We’ve crossed a line here today and there’s no going back to the way things were.”
Oh Lord. The line. She’d known that at the time, but it didn’t really sink in until this moment. In this space between syllables where she and Broderick were undefined.
Kota trotted up behind her, his white-and-black snout finding her fingertips. Scratching between his ears, Glenna waited for whatever Broderick would say next. For wherever this conversation was going.
In spite of having just downed an apple pastry, Broderick pulled out the leftover stew from the fridge without looking at her. He grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and a ladle from a drawer. Eyes flicking toward her, he pointed at the food. An offer.
She shook her head, anchored herself by stroking the fluffy fur on Kota’s head. Broderick shrugged, still not speaking as he poured a few scoops into the bowl.
Maybe she should stop waiting for him to share and instead offer up something of her past. For the first time, it dawned on her how closed off she’d been, expecting everything to come from him. Afraid of being vulnerable.
Glenna poured another cup of coffee, added sweetener along with half and half. Absently stirring it, she realized what she had to do, what she needed to share, how to connect with him in hopes of coming to her decision. “We rigged a zip line through the backyard over a frozen pond.”
He paused midbite. “You did…what?”
“A zip line. We were young engineers and ecologically minded kids. We figured out the aerodynamics.” She held the mug with two hands, blew on it to cool it. Then took a sip and nodded at him.