some
of the simpler gifts. Don’t be afraid to let yourself feel what we share.”
She
reached in her purse and he thought she was pulling out a tissue. Disappointment
and the extreme sense of failure flooded him when she placed a ten on the
table. Slipping her hand from his, she stood and he did the same, panicked she
was leaving and not ready to let her go. “Becca—”
“My
car’s out front. You can either drive with me back to my house or follow me
there.”
“What?”
“If you really mean it, Braydon, everything you just said, then you’re welcome
to come home with me. Hunter won’t be back until Monday evening.”
His
pulse doubled. She was letting him in?
“There’s
one condition though,” she quickly added.
“What?”
She
swallowed then faced him, her eyes serious. “If it becomes too much and you
can’t take it, you tell me. Right away. I don’t have time for games. And
neither does Hunter.”
He
stepped close, catching his hands on her hips. His lips pressed to hers—a small
gasp of surprise slipping past—and he whispered, “I can take it, but I also
promise, I’ll always be upfront with you about my feelings.”
She
twisted out of his hold. “And one more thing.”
“You
said one condition,” he teased.
“I
changed my mind. That happens a lot. Get used to it.”
He
loved when she got fresh with him. “What’s the other condition?”
Her
face flushed and she seemed to struggle forming the words. “I’m not trying to
sound presumptuous or scare you, but…”
Now he
was intrigued. “Tell me.”
She met
his gaze. “No I love you’s. I can’t take it and I have no interest in
hearing anything you don’t mean. Those words are big and they mean something to
me. They mean commitment, longevity, and unconditional acceptance. They aren’t
to be thrown around.”
Braydon
had never said he loved another woman aside from those in his family. It
shouldn’t be a problem. “Agreed.”
Her
smile was cautious, but eventually it formed. “Shall we?”
He took
her hand. “Yes.”
Chapter Five
Becca
turned the key in the lock of her front door as Braydon’s luxury sedan pulled
in behind her van. Her heart beat erratically in her chest, her disbelieving
mind still reeling at the fact that she was brazen enough to invite him. A big
part of her assumed he’d get cold feet and bolt.
He’d
clearly done his homework. Never expecting to date after her divorce, Braydon
was ahead of the game. Somewhere deep in a hidden corner of her mind she’d
categorized the difficult steps of dating as a single mom and found it so
improbable she never thought on the subject again. Yet, the unformed plan was
there. It would start slow, maybe a few dates to see if there was a connection.
From there, she’d explain that her child was autistic and watch for any telltale
signs of discomfort that meant the man couldn’t handle that.
If said
man didn’t run for the hills, she’d give him the book that got her through the
first five years of Hunter’s life. If he didn’t read it, he didn’t have what it
would take. If he did, they’d discuss his theories and concerns. She’d share
her strategies and theories and once they’d deliberated enough and she felt the
man had a grasp of what to expect and an understanding of how she might parent
in a pinch, she’d let him meet her son. If that went well, they’d breach the
more intimate areas of dating.
Problem
was, that was all a fantasy, and a draining one at that. Nothing about her plan
was remotely sexy like new relationships probably should be.
She
assumed it would never happen so she must have tucked that plan away with the
ones labeled, plan to tour Europe, plan to bring roses to your child’s
recital, or plan for rambunctious sleepovers with a rowdy houseful of your
son’s friends. She had lots of plans that would likely never come to
fruition. So she was utterly unprepared for this one to take shape. Adding
of the simpler gifts. Don’t be afraid to let yourself feel what we share.”
She
reached in her purse and he thought she was pulling out a tissue. Disappointment
and the extreme sense of failure flooded him when she placed a ten on the
table. Slipping her hand from his, she stood and he did the same, panicked she
was leaving and not ready to let her go. “Becca—”
“My
car’s out front. You can either drive with me back to my house or follow me
there.”
“What?”
“If you really mean it, Braydon, everything you just said, then you’re welcome
to come home with me. Hunter won’t be back until Monday evening.”
His
pulse doubled. She was letting him in?
“There’s
one condition though,” she quickly added.
“What?”
She
swallowed then faced him, her eyes serious. “If it becomes too much and you
can’t take it, you tell me. Right away. I don’t have time for games. And
neither does Hunter.”
He
stepped close, catching his hands on her hips. His lips pressed to hers—a small
gasp of surprise slipping past—and he whispered, “I can take it, but I also
promise, I’ll always be upfront with you about my feelings.”
She
twisted out of his hold. “And one more thing.”
“You
said one condition,” he teased.
“I
changed my mind. That happens a lot. Get used to it.”
He
loved when she got fresh with him. “What’s the other condition?”
Her
face flushed and she seemed to struggle forming the words. “I’m not trying to
sound presumptuous or scare you, but…”
Now he
was intrigued. “Tell me.”
She met
his gaze. “No I love you’s. I can’t take it and I have no interest in
hearing anything you don’t mean. Those words are big and they mean something to
me. They mean commitment, longevity, and unconditional acceptance. They aren’t
to be thrown around.”
Braydon
had never said he loved another woman aside from those in his family. It
shouldn’t be a problem. “Agreed.”
Her
smile was cautious, but eventually it formed. “Shall we?”
He took
her hand. “Yes.”
Chapter Five
Becca
turned the key in the lock of her front door as Braydon’s luxury sedan pulled
in behind her van. Her heart beat erratically in her chest, her disbelieving
mind still reeling at the fact that she was brazen enough to invite him. A big
part of her assumed he’d get cold feet and bolt.
He’d
clearly done his homework. Never expecting to date after her divorce, Braydon
was ahead of the game. Somewhere deep in a hidden corner of her mind she’d
categorized the difficult steps of dating as a single mom and found it so
improbable she never thought on the subject again. Yet, the unformed plan was
there. It would start slow, maybe a few dates to see if there was a connection.
From there, she’d explain that her child was autistic and watch for any telltale
signs of discomfort that meant the man couldn’t handle that.
If said
man didn’t run for the hills, she’d give him the book that got her through the
first five years of Hunter’s life. If he didn’t read it, he didn’t have what it
would take. If he did, they’d discuss his theories and concerns. She’d share
her strategies and theories and once they’d deliberated enough and she felt the
man had a grasp of what to expect and an understanding of how she might parent
in a pinch, she’d let him meet her son. If that went well, they’d breach the
more intimate areas of dating.
Problem
was, that was all a fantasy, and a draining one at that. Nothing about her plan
was remotely sexy like new relationships probably should be.
She
assumed it would never happen so she must have tucked that plan away with the
ones labeled, plan to tour Europe, plan to bring roses to your child’s
recital, or plan for rambunctious sleepovers with a rowdy houseful of your
son’s friends. She had lots of plans that would likely never come to
fruition. So she was utterly unprepared for this one to take shape. Adding
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