A few months. Marston is going to be here for a few months . . . and he wants me to live with him. I know if I spent months in his bed, it would change something in me. Julian hurt me, but Marston . . . Marston could shatter me.
“It’s a split floor plan,” he says, as if reading my mind. “I’m not trying to talk you into being my family right now. You and Cami will have the whole guest wing to yourselves.”
I bite the inside of my lip. “That’s too generous. I can’t . . .” I shake my head and open my palm to give the key back. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Move in. I’ll be gone in Atlanta half the time, and I promise not to pester you when I am around.” His lips quirk. “Unless you want to be pestered.”
“I’m not worried about that. I just don’t want to be a charity case.” His eyes go shuttered, and I realize what I’ve said. “Shit, Marston. I didn’t mean . . .”
“Yeah, you did, and I don’t blame you. No one wants to be a charity case. That’s why I worked so damn hard to get where I am. But this isn’t charity.”
I bite my lip. His offer is beyond tempting. We’d have more space than we’ll have at Kace’s, and his place is more convenient to work. Not to mention easy access to Marston himself. Very. Fucking. Tempting. “Can I think about it?”
“Take all the time you need.”
* * *
Marston
I knew giving her keys this soon would spook her, but I take it as a small victory that she didn’t throw them back in my face.
I glance at the big bay window by the front door and the little towheaded girl staring out at us. “That must be Hope,” I say, nodding.
Turning, Brinley grins and waves. “Hi, Hopey!”
Hope waves back, then runs away from the window.
“Are you going to invite me in to see your new place?” I ask, trying to play it cool.
Brinley shakes her head. “Cami will be back soon.”
Something sharp lodges in my chest at that. If she doesn’t want me here when Cami gets home, how the fuck do I expect her to agree to move in with me? I ignore the burn and focus on the positive: here and now. I respect that she’s protective of her daughter and needs time before inviting me into Cami’s life. I can be patient.
I brush a kiss across her mouth, savoring the smell of her and the instinctive parting of her lips. “See you soon.”
“Not soon enough.” She lifts onto her toes, and I think she’s going to kiss me again when she jumps back, eyes wide and focused behind me. “Roman! You’re early.”
Roman Humphries stands on Kace’s front sidewalk, hand raised in an awkward wave. Cami’s right behind him, fingers flying on her phone. Roman looks back and forth between us, confusion creasing his brow. “Jesus, Marston Rowe. Is that you?”
I don’t think this guy did anything but sneer at me the year we went to school together, so I’m taken aback by his smile. It even seems genuine. “Hi, Roman.”
“Hi, Mom,” Cami says, looking up from her phone. “Do we for real get to stay with Uncle Kace and Hope for a while?”
“For a little bit,” Brinley says, nodding.
“Yes!” Cami says, weaving around us to get into the house. She grins at me as she turns the knob. “Hi, Marston.”
“Hey, Cami,” I say, returning her smile. “Did you have a good time at Disney World?”
“It was awesome,” she says. “How was your week?”
“It was . . . fantastic.” Why lie?
Cami swivels to face her mom. “I’m going to go play with Hope.”
Brinley nods. “Sure, sweetie. That’s fine.”
Cami reaches around me, and I step out of the way as she gives her dad a one-armed hug. He kisses the top of her head. “Love you, Daddy. See you in a couple of weeks.”
“See ya, kiddo.” He squeezes her one last time before releasing her, and then Cami’s off.
Roman looks back and forth between Brinley and me. “So, you two . . .” Smiling, he shakes his head. “Hell, it was inevitable from the start, wasn’t it?” He sounds almost happy about it, which throws me, to be honest.
“We’re still figuring it out,” Brinley says. Then more softly, “Don’t say anything yet. I don’t want to confuse Cami.”
“Julian’s a tool,” Roman says, then says to me, “Whatever part you played in saving my daughter from Brinley’s awful choice in husbands, I commend you.”
“Stop it,” Brinley growls. “Julian’s a good guy. Or . . . was until recently.” She frowns. “Everyone can be a little dickish when in the middle of a breakup.”
Roman grunts as if to say, Yeah, right. Whatever you say. “What matters is it’s over.”