Page 32

I don’t know if someone has ever looked at me and desired me the way Braxton seems to.

“Good. Because she is very special. And should be treated as such.”

“Luca—” I’m dying of humiliation and I can scarcely pull my eyes off Braxton to glare at Luca, but Braxton doesn’t give me the chance.

He reaches over and curls his hand over Luca’s shoulder. I swear I see my boss shiver with pleasure. “I know. Trust me, Luca. I get it.”

The men stare at each other, while I’m frozen. This is insane! They’ve both fallen off their rocker.

I’m not special, just the girl who got knocked up, but with the way they seem to be having a conversation with only their manly glares, I want to be the woman they believe me to be. I want it desperately.

“Lunch,” I say, forcing out the word on a mere, straggled breath. “I need to eat.”

“Take all the time you need, loves,” Luca says, as I swing out my arm for Braxton to head toward the back of the gallery where we have a small, but updated and comfortable, kitchen area. “And do not worry about keeping the sound down, I like to listen!”

“Oh my God,” I mutter. “I’m going to kill him.”

Braxton slides his arm around my waist and squeezes. “I like him.”

Chapter 12

Braxton

One of the most important lessons Irvin taught me was that time gives perspective to all circumstances.

I’ve spent a lot of time this last week considering my new circumstances with Cara and while I was as blatant as I could possibly be at lunch the other day, I’m quickly learning blatancy and bluntness aren’t going to win her to me.

She has a softness about her, a vulnerability that I don’t often see in women anymore who tend to be more aggressive or assertive. The confidence and bluster of women who believe they don’t have to wait around for a man to make the first move, or ask for the first date, or pay the dinner bill, isn’t a bad quality. Typically, if I’m enjoying the company of a woman, I don’t care if her hand reaches for the check, although I almost always reach for it first. But hey, if someone needs that, wants that, whatever.

Cara isn’t only lacking that assertiveness, uncertainty swirls around her. From the short conversations we had about her family, I figure they’re a bunch of new-money assholes who expect perfection and when it isn’t given, the person who’s disappointed them becomes less important, or ignored completely.

While I know she has Jenna, and she’s mentioned a brother fondly, I wonder who in this world has ever taken the time to tell her she is important.

I’ve at least had Irvin. But this girl, every time she’s given a compliment, she doesn’t brush it off, trying to be coy or fish for more, like she thinks shehasto brush it off. She simply appears like she doesn’t believe them, like she’s just done with Luca and me agreeing she’s special.

It’s not even that she might not believe it, it’s that she can’tseewhat we see in her. I’m determined to show her exactly the kind of beautiful and selfless woman I believe she is.

I’m drawn to her, and attracted to her physically, and I don’t want her to just think I am, remaining uncertain where I want to take us, I want to be able to fill her with confidence that if she gives us a chance, it won’t only be worth her time, it has the potential to be the best damn decision she’s ever made.

I think about all of this while we eat lunch, keeping the conversation mostly about tonight’s show. We laugh about Lucy, how she’s still scratching at the guest bedroom door when it’s closed and her new bed is exactly where Cara rested her head last weekend.

After we’re done with lunch and I return to my condo, Lucy bounds out of her kennel and attacks my calves and legs, her nose sniffing in hyperspeed.

One damn night with my dog, not even, but only a handful of hours, and I’m playing second fiddle in my own home to the lingering scent of a woman.

Given Lucy’s inherent love of Cara, I’m considering keeping the dog too. It’s the first time I’ve considered it instead of continuing to foster.

“Calm down, Luce.” I rub her head, scratching behind her ears while she whines and bumps my thighs with her nose. “She’ll be here later, just chill, dog.”

She jumps on me, throwing her front paws to my hips in her recent version of a hug, her tongue lolling at the outside of her mouth, tail wagging so hard it’s beating against the doorway.

“Come on, we’ll go out and I’ll feed you.”

She scampers off my hips and bounds to the door like I told her Cara’s arrival was imminent. While I’m walking the damn dog, she’s more playful, bouncing and bounding and ignoring other dogs for probably the first time, as if she too is as excited as I am for the chance to spend another night with Cara.

Cara has wrapped both of us around her finger, and I couldn’t care less about it.

The walk takes longer than normal because Lucy is in no hurry to do her business so by the time we get back to my place, I’m running late to shower and get dressed in one of the rare black suits I have.