Page 10 of The Locksmith’s Promise (The Promise Duet #1)

Envious of Baxter’s ability to provide the things I never could.

How shallow was that?

He’d missed out on all Cor’s baby, toddler, and early childhood stages, and I worried he might show me up by purchasing him a couple of guitars.

“We’ll buy a couple of wall mounts for them,” I murmured.

“Awesome,” Corwin breathed, looking at his dad with stars in his eyes.

I had to start schooling my face. Used to it being just the two of us, Corwin was far too in tune with me, and he shouldn’t be privy to my struggles.

I smiled at him. “We’ll start looking for a more permanent place. You, me, Jeff, and your guitars are going to need more space,” I teased.

Corwin shrugged. “We don’t need a backyard in this place. The whole town is like my backyard now.”

Baxter grinned at me. “We have to take him hiking.”

We.

God, how I’d longed for the three of us to be we.

Bax’s words and the joy on his face pummeled the walls of my resistance. Every hour spent with him poked the sleeping dragon of a once-longed-for dream.

One I couldn’t afford to entertain.

I’d once beaten it back, but the dark place hovered always on the periphery, threatening to suck me back in.

I suspected I’d have to walk back through it for the hope of the dream on the other side.

And there were no guarantees.

I was comfortable, I’d worked hard to get to this place, and I learned long ago it was better not to ask for more.

With that reminder, I survived the rest of the evening with most of my heart intact. Back at my place, Corwin tucked into bed, coffees in hand, I addressed the elephant in the room.

Drawing my feet up under me on one end of the couch put a little extra space between us.

Baxter reached out a hand and stroked the cushion in front of my foot, murmuring, “Red today.”

What would he say if he knew the rest?

I gave my head a shake.

I should have taken the chair.

“This can’t be about us, Bax,” I stated quietly. “There is no us. Not in any kind of romantic sense. Not anymore.”

“Maggie,” he whispered, pained.

His voice sliced me open like a knife.

“I don’t want Corwin’s heart broken.” I sniffed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

Or mine.

I shook my head and inhaled a shuddering breath. Refusing to look at him, unwilling to add the look on his face to my list of sins, I searched for that blessed numbness that had carried me through more occasions than I could count.

Including our dinner earlier.

It settled over me gently as I firmly and bluntly set him straight. “It’s only natural that he’ll fantasize about us being a little family of our own.” I met his eyes. “We can’t encourage that way of thinking.”

He shook his head as he pulled his hand away and leveled me with his gaze. His dark, sober eyes left no room for doubt about his determination.

A tiny frisson of alarm skittered up my arms.

Leaning forward, he set his empty mug on the coffee table.

“See,” he began slowly. “That’s not going to work for me.”

I frowned, anxiety pulling out her needles to knit my intestines. “What do you mean, that’s not going to work for you? What about me? What about what works for me?”

He dipped his chin, shame or regret or maybe both staining his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Maggie. I’m being selfish. And I’m going to continue being selfish because the last time I felt whole was the last time you hugged me.”

I stared back at him, my eyes skittering back and forth between his.

While my heart broke for him, I couldn’t be responsible for his happiness. Along with everything else I carried, it was simply too heavy.

But God help me, I wanted to hold him.

Make him whole in a way he’d never been.

It had been too long since I’d felt whole myself.

“I know I don’t deserve you,” he continued quietly, his gaze steady. “But if you let me in, I’ll make sure you never regret it.”

I opened my mouth, but my protest died in my throat.

Rising to his feet, he leaned over me and cupped my face in his hands.

Eyes wide, I stared up at him.

Watched with bated breath as he lowered his head and pressed his forehead to mine.

Then he raised his chin so that his lips hovered a bare inch above mine.

Heart thudding in my chest, I slapped my hands over his.

I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so alive, every one of my senses on fire from the touch of his hand, the light in his eyes, the warm, light, soapy scent of his skin.

“Oh, God,” I panted, unable to pull away.

His hands trembled under mine.

I was rapidly losing control of the whole situation.

No.

I’d already lost it.

I can’t.

Voice shaking, he whispered, “Maggie.”

Inhaling sharply through his teeth, he dropped his hands and tucked my hair behind my ear before stepping back. “I won’t push you. Not too hard.”

I snorted, blowing out a breath while I pressed the palms of my hands to my thighs to stop them from shaking.

His retreating footsteps sounded through the kitchen then stopped.

His deep voice carried back to me.

“You should know, Corwin isn’t the only one fantasizing about us being a family.”