Your Forever Love (The Bennett Family 3)

“I’ll buy us new ones. Wine again?”

I nod. As Eric walks to the rooftop bar, I pull his jacket tighter around me. It smells amazing and fills me with a strange sense of safety. He returns with two glasses a few minutes later, handing me one and sitting next to me. I approximate there are eight inches of distance between us—not nearly enough to be considered safe. I can practically sense the testosterone oozing off him.

“What do you want to talk about?” I ask him, trying hard to keep my mind out of the gutter.

“Anything,” he replies. “Tell me about you, but please, make an effort to find something vile and repugnant. So far, I’ve learned that you get along with my daughter, are funny as hell, and have a body made for sin. Bad combo for my determination to remain a monk.”

I laugh out loud, as he continues, “There’s something I meant to ask you after your phone call. Why are you keeping your family at arm’s length?”

Coming from anyone else, this question would set me on edge, but instead, I sink in my seat. My muscles loosen up one by one. I love that I don’t feel the need to pretend around him, or keep up the bravado.

I take a sip of wine, wondering how to best formulate my answer.

“I’m not used to having my siblings fret over me. I mean, sure, Sebastian and Logan have made it their mission to hover over us, but I’m the family’s official worrier.” I take another sip then play with the glass in my hands, focusing on the way the liquid swirls inside. “When we were little, I worried there wasn’t enough of anything for everyone. When money ceased to be a problem, I worried if I was setting a good enough example for them.” I chuckle, remembering one particular incident. “On my twenty-eighth birthday, Summer told me that whenever she’s in a dilemma, she asks herself, ‘What would Pippa do?’”

“You’re a remarkable woman,” Eric says in a soft voice.

“How can you tell? We met two weeks ago.”

“I’ve seen you with Julie. That’s all I need to know. You should cut yourself some slack.” He hesitates for a few seconds, before adding, “I have a hunch you keep punishing yourself for something.”

I raise my glass to him. “Nice to meet a fellow people reader.”

“So, what are you punishing yourself for?” he insists.

“Being stupid,” I admit. Eric raises his hand, obvious from his expre

ssion that he wants to contradict me, but I stop him with a headshake. “I sensed in my gut that something was wrong with Terence, and still I went through with the wedding. All the signs were there, but I wanted to be blind. I wanted a family like the one I came from so badly, with lots of kids running around and many happy moments, that I ignored the signs.”

“You weren’t stupid, but you wear your heart on your sleeve, and you can’t fathom that anyone else can have hidden agendas. You will eventually have everything you wish, Pippa.”

I shrug. “It’s okay. I’m happy with the family I already have. They’ve been my rock through all of this. I relied on them and on plenty of sweets, good books, and occasional trips to a therapist, which didn’t do much for me, if I’m honest.”

“Ah, yes, therapists. It’s hard to find the good ones.” Eric’s voice is so conversational, as if we’re exchanging impressions about the weather. “Even the great ones can only help so much. You have to find things that ground you. For me, it was Julie. No matter how hard it was I had to pull myself together for her.”

“You are a great father,” I assure him. We’re kindred spirits, he and I, and my heart clenches for him.

“I try. Do you want another glass?” He points to my empty one.

“No, I’m good. We should go. Long day ahead tomorrow.”

“How so? You’re only joining us after lunch.”

“Sebastian and Ava are back from their honeymoon, so we’ll have a family brunch at Alice’s restaurant tomorrow morning.”

We leave our corner and I shudder in the wind, despite the jacket. As we step out onto the street, he says, “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“Nope. This is a nondate. I will take myself home.”

“But—”

“We’re not negotiating,” I interrupt. “I’ll grab a cab. There are plenty in this area. Oh, I almost forgot. What’s your address? I need it for tomorrow.”

I frown as he tells me the name of the street. I know it. It’s a residential, no-fuss area. My surprise must show on my face because he asks, “Why do you seem so taken aback?”

“I was expecting you to live in one of the most expensive areas.” Eying him with appreciation, I add, “But you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” he says stunned. “This is the most insulting non-insult I have ever received.”