“What changed your mind?”
“Something reminded me, it’s not about what I want. The car’s for you. I want to give you something that will make you happy.”
“I don’t need a car to be happy, Alec.”
“I know. But you’ve hinted enough. I know it’s what you want, so we’re getting it.” He turned the faucet back on and returned to the table, brushing a kiss on Alexia’s head along the way.
Ryan watched the exchange with warm affection and envy. As odd a couple as Sheilagh and Alec made, they somehow balanced each other in a chaotic world and made perfect sense.
That night, he drove home wondering if the world had a surprising someone reserved for him. When he pulled into the driveway, the sky was dark. Not until he climbed out of his truck did he notice Maggie waiting on his back porch.
His first thought was what a pleasant surprise. His second, more accurate thought was he’d seen that look in a woman’s eyes before.
This was when she would tell him everything up to this moment had been a mistake, and they were better off being friends, which was code for strangers of increasing distance. It didn’t matter that they only shared a handful of interactions, there was something between them, something she didn’t like—or maybe she did like it, and that was what worried her.
“Hey,” she greeted, looking small and adorable, her nervous gaze following him as he rounded the truck.
“Hey.” He pocketed his keys and hung back.
“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted last night.” Her cheeks slightly flushed.
“Don’t worry about it.” They both embarrassed themselves.
“I’ve been drinking a lot lately.”
His humiliation shifted into concern. “Is it a problem?”
“No. Not usually. I haven’t had anything aside from coffee or water today, but… March is a really bad month for me. I’m kind of stuck in a bad few years.”
She didn’t have to justify herself to him. They all had demons and hers were bigger than most. “Understandable.”
She glanced at the fence separating their yards. He loved when she wore that gray wool cap. It showed off her face and drew his attention to her full lips. Would she mention the kiss?
“My memories are … sketchy.”
Ah. That was how she wanted to play it. “It’s cool. We don’t have to rehash it.”
Her gaze returned to his, and she looked up at him with big eyes. “Yesterday, when you took me up those stairs at the bar, why did you do that?”
“Because you looked like you needed an escape.”
“But you were slammed. You could have just pointed me toward the exit. You didn’t have to wait with me.”
“I thought you needed a minute to catch your breath, and I didn’t want to leave you alone.”
Her brow pinched. “What about what you needed?”
He shrugged. “That didn’t matter at the time.”
Her shoulders rounded as she folded her gloved hands between her knees. “You’re a really nice guy.”
“So are you. Well, woman.” He took a slow step forward and then another. Without getting too close, he lowered himself to the step and sat beside her. They both kept their stares directed at his truck. “You know, if you ever need to just get out of your head for a little bit, I’m usually around. The bar thing’s only temporary. I’m home by six most nights.”
“Same. I sort of forget how to act around people, like I forget how to be normal.”
He chuckled. “Normal’s overrated. Just act however feels right.”
The wind shifted and the soft scent of her hair drifted to his nose. She was back to her usual appearance of jeans, a bulky sweatshirt, fingerless gloves, and a hat. Not a speck of makeup competed with her natural beauty.
“I miss … talking,” she whispered. “Everyone I know knew Nash, and sometimes that’s all they want to talk about. Even when they aren’t saying it out loud, I can sense their eyes screaming things at me.”
“We don’t have to talk about him.”
“But sometimes I want to.”
“Then we can.”
She glanced at him. “Do you find it lonely, living here alone?”
“Sometimes it’s lonelier living in the midst of so many other people’s lives and feeling like the odd man out.”
“Yeah, I definitely know what that feels like.”
“Do you get lonely?” He figured she must. It had been two years.
“It’s more than loneliness. I wonder if I’ll actually atrophy from lack of human interaction. I flinch when people touch me unexpectedly. Sometimes human contact hurts my heart. But there’s this part of me that knows if I can just push through the awkwardness and tolerate it a little bit longer, I’ll find comfort.”
He came from an overly affectionate family where everyone kissed and hugged each other all the time. While he desperately missed intimacy—sex was different—the last time he slept with a woman he found the connection hollow and unfulfilling. He missed the emotional link that came with love—or what he imagined that might feel like. In a pinch, infatuation served as a close second. He couldn’t imagine going without any physical contact for as long as she had.