Page 8

“Why are you so cute?” She asked, finally making it completely out.

“I’m tryna make you Mrs. Martin. Gotta keep it cute.”

She took the cup, trying to hide the grin pulling at her lips.

He stepped closer, not caring who was watching.

“Thank you, for my Dunkin. So you believe what they say?

“I don’t know about all that, but I know I’m always gonna take care of you.” he said, like it was nothing.

Then he kissed her forehead, slow and sure.

“Always.”

And she believed him.

No backup plan.

Just love.

The bell above the door jingled, pulling her from her reminiscing and she was back in reality, aware of why she was hurting so much. They’d been told for years that they were ordained, meant to be, and that this was God’s will. It wasn’t feeling like that anymore.

Chapter 2

The Diner was mostly empty, but a few people were in attendance. Taylor had never been there before, but that wasn’t surprising. She didn’t get out much unless it was for work, the gym, or church. Sometimes she linked up with her girls, but even that felt rare these days. Taylor was a homebody. Some would call her green. A square.

“You ain’t gotta be nervous,” Brooks said lowly, his deep voice barely carried over the clinking of dishes from the kitchen. He wasn't trying to convince her, just remind her.

Brooks led them to a booth tucked in the back, away from the glare of the front lights. A jukebox sat in the corner behind them, dusty and low humming. It caught her eye immediately. She made a mental note to check it before they left, maybe find something light and sad to match the ache in her chest. Music would always sooth her, even if it was temporary.

She slid into the booth, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Brooks took the seat across from her, relaxed, stretching one arm across the back of the booth. He watched her quietly, but it wasn’t a stare.

Taylor shifted under his gaze. His eyes moved over her with determination, trying to figure out how someone could be created so perfectly and not know it.

He took in the heart-shaped face, the full but tender lips. Taylor’s ginger-hued bun sat perfectly atop her head, sleek and deliberate, one of the many styles he’d observed her in over the years. The ginger hair was new to him, but he liked it. Her lashes were thick, sweeping over those doe eyes that had caught his attention too many times to count.

She was beautiful. He’d never deny it.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m just taking in the moment.”

She didn’t like how his gaze made her squirm. It wasn’t nerves. It was anticipation. She was waiting for him to bring it up.

Tyree.

Her husband. Her situation. He embarrassment.

But he wouldn’t.

She’d talk when she was ready.

And if she never was?

Well, that was her business.

And he had nothing of value to give her other than drop the fuckin zero. It was simple. Brooks didn’t need a million signs, and he damn sure didn’t hand out unlimited chances. That’s why he was single. His patience had limits. He wasn’t the type to beg anyone to see his value.