French Roast (34 page)

Chapter 43

J
ill received Brian’s response nearly twenty-four hours after she’d sent hers.
I’m sorry too. Can you meet me at Jemma’s?

The sweetness of the spot had her blinking back tears. Yes, they could both use their friend’s support for this talk. She texted him back and suggested a time. He immediately agreed.

When the appointed time rolled around, she drove to the cemetery. The quiet immediately wrapped around her like a blanket. The birds chirped as she walked to Jemma’s grave, wearing her friend’s amethyst necklace for support. The bench by the graveside cushioned her. Sitting there, watching the clouds flutter by, she imagined Jemma sitting beside her, being her angel.

A car door slammed in the distance. The sight of Brian walking toward her made her heart twist. His maple syrup hair looked freshly cut and his cheeks shone with a close shave.

His eyes locked onto hers. “Hey,” he called, stopping a few yards away. “Are you ready to talk?”

“Yeah,” she answered. This was going to hurt.

His finger pointed to Jemma’s headstone. “I suggested we talk here because when Jemma died, everything between us changed. Do you remember?”

The wind swirled around her as she thought of that time—the shared hurt, opening her heart to him again. “Yes.”

Brian’s hands fell to his hips. “I don’t know how to start this, so I’m just going to do the best I can. I’m sorry I hurt you again. It was the last thing I ever wanted. And I’m sorry I lost my temper, but you hurt me too, Jill.”

His bloodshot eyes conveyed that. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He sat beside her. “I realize how much this whole situation with Simca must have damaged your trust in me.”

His understanding cooled her flushed face as much as the bitter wind. “Thank you for that.”

“But I have to know, Jill, Simca aside, if you can ever trust me again?”

The skin on her face suddenly felt stretched across her bones. “I want to. I’ve been afraid from day one that you were going to choose her over me. Like you did before with Kelly.”

His jaw clenched. “Dammit, Jill. I love you. You’re fucking
everything
to me! Why can’t you see that?”

Her eyes burned. “I was scared I wasn’t enough. And then I saw you with her. I can’t offer you everything Simca can. A new career. Life with a confident, sexual courtesan. I’m just Jill. Simple, plain ol’ Jill.”

He grabbed her face in his hands “That’s bullshit. There’s nothing simple or plain about you.”

And staring into the certainty in his eyes, something inside her shifted. She realized it was true. She wasn’t Simca, but she was herself. She had talents. And she needed to stop comparing herself to other people and start loving her body for itself. Hadn’t Brian shown her how much he enjoyed it?

She could almost hear Jemma applaud.

“Jill, you stir me up, rip me up, and cut me up until I don’t know if I can put it all back together.”

Everything in her shook at his outpouring of emotion, like the windows in an old house when a plane went over too low.

He yanked her to him, the warmth of his body taking away the cold inside her. His hands twisted in her hair, and he kissed her. She could feel the pull of him, the draw. Her body leaned forward until they were flush against each other. Feeling the heat. The hurt. It lasted all but a minute until she wrenched back, needing to know what this meant.

“Brian—”

His head swooped down again. The hard press of his lips took her under. Opened her up. Desperation, longing, and the endless bite of love turned the kiss into a brutal act. Tongues dueled. Teeth scraped. The flash of lust turned her body to lava. She moaned—deep and long in her throat.

He tugged her back by the hair. “Do you think Simca ever did this to me? Or Kelly Kimple?”

Breathing hard, she stared at him. Looked at him. His eyes shone like the noontime sun—hot and intense. A flicker of hope took root. “So, what does this mean?”

His hands framed her face. “It means I’m not leaving you. I’m staying here. I’m going to do everything I can to help you trust me—the whole way this time. It doesn’t matter how long it takes.”

Her mouth parted. He was staying? “But—”

“What about you? I assume you’re taking the job with Mac?”

The first stirrings of a smile broke across her lips. He was staying—for her—and before he knew she was pregnant. “Yes, I took the job with Mac. I’m sorry I didn’t wait to talk to you, but I thought you were out of the picture. I hope it’s—”

“I’m one hundred percent behind you. You’ve been so happy with this new project, Jill.”

“Part of me wanted to open a place with you so you’d have to stay with me,” she said in a low voice. “It was my insurance policy, so to speak.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. Drew in the warmth and the heat. “But I could see it wouldn’t work. I was afraid I would start agreeing with you just so you’d stay. Our ideas were totally different.”

He caressed her hair. “Yes, they were, which is why I’m going to buy Morty’s place. I’m done working for someone else. With the new hotel on its way, my vision has a chance to succeed here.”

Her heart soared like the crows flying out of the nearby tree. “That’s wonderful!”

He traced her brow. “And I’m going to partner up with someone who understands Dare almost as well as you do. Your grandfather.”

Like a shot to the heart, it paralyzed her for a moment before the real impact sunk in. “My
grandpa
agreed to go into business with you?”

All the misery in those Bengal-tiger blue eyes evaporated, replaced with pure mischief. “He’ll be a silent partner on one condition: I can’t serve tofu.”

That wonderful old codger. He always supported her—and did it on his own terms. She had to bite her lip to keep it from trembling. “Sounds like him.”

“Of course, you might be wondering why I asked him and not someone else.”

She cupped his face in her hands. “I know you, remember? You were asking for his approval after everything that’s happened.”

He pressed his forehead to hers in one rapid motion. “I should have known you’d get that.”

“And he gave it to you.” Arthur Hale was no fool. He knew his approval counted. God, she loved him.

“And you have clear warning. I’m going to marry you,” he whispered. “One way or another. Sometime in the near future or in a few years. Whatever it takes. I’m through with letting my parents screw with my head. We’re not them. We’re us,” he said, leaning back, “and I love you. You’re my most important thing in the world to me.”

Hadn’t she been waiting years to hear him say that? Her face fit into his neck like the space had been waiting for her. She breathed him in. Spice and forest and something else—red hots, she realized. She took a moment to savor it, him. He was telling her everything she’d ever wanted. Now it was time to share her other news.

“I need to tell you something else,” she whispered.

His eyes beamed. “What?”

She caressed his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm. “I’m pregnant.”

His mouth dropped open. He didn’t blink. Didn’t say a word.

“Brian? I know it’s a shock. I took the test after the city council vote since my period still hadn’t come. Isn’t it our luck that we struck gold, so to speak, on the first—”

“When were you planning on telling me?”

“When I texted you.”

“Wait. Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

Was he freaking out? Changing his mind? She knew how scared she was thinking about taking on a new job with a baby on the way. “Please—”

“Stop. Give me a minute.’” He paced a short distance away. But he didn’t head to his car. With his back turned, she couldn’t see his face.

She gripped Jemma’s gravestone, scared their future hung in the balance again.

***

Her news had him struggling for breath. She was pregnant?

Jesus, what in the hell would have happened if he hadn’t stayed? Being separated from his kid would have ripped his guts out. His knees almost gave out at the thought. The shock rolled over him as he tried to make sense of it—and what it meant for them.

He rose and started toward her. Her hair shone like hot coals, a reddish orange so rich it kindled warmth. The breeze twirled the ends of her curls, tracing her tear-streaked face and neck like his fingers itched to do. Her green eyes reminded him of the spring coming in a few months. Soon, these grounds would be a rich emerald carpet, the showcase for granite gravestones and flourishing flowers.

He pulled her to him. When he kissed her, everything inside him settled. Her mouth opened under his, giving him her tears and love and the promise she’d always be there, wanting the best for him. He soothed her as she cried into their kiss, her breath coming in harsh intakes until she finally laid her head on his shoulder and went to pieces.

“I thought you were running away.” she said.

“No, I was just trying to take it all in. Jill, you—the baby—it all overwhelms me. I don’t want to screw it up.” He rocked them back and forth.

When she lifted her head, he brushed the wetness from her cheeks. “Then don’t,” she whispered, eyes shining, nearly destroying him.

Simpler words couldn’t hold more truth. “Right. Or like your grandpa told me, you work harder.” Arthur’s other words about forgiveness popped into his mind. “Jill, I need to know one more thing. Do you truly forgive me for leaving Dare the way I did when we were kids?”

Her smile dimmed for a second, making him wonder if she was ready. “Oh, what the heck? I’m in a good mood.” She launched herself at him again, locking her lips to his. “Speaking of the past, I heard Pete left town,” she whispered, reaching for a Kleenex in her navy jacket.

“Yes.” The reality hadn’t quite set in.

“He left his John Elway football for you at the coffee shop.”

For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He remembered the moment Pete had called him to tell him about his
best Christmas present ever.
They were eight at the time.

“He was here too,” she informed him. “He left Jemma’s favorite flowers.”

The Gerbera daisies looked like giant multi-colored lollipops all wrapped up from the candy store.

“I’ll teach our kid how to catch with it.” Brian traced the headstone, the angel in the center.

“That would be nice.”

She went into his arms as liquid as water. Fitted against him with a perfection that could only have been designed.

He tucked her collar up around her ears when the wind gusted. “So, about the baby…”

And he realized releasing the past meant creating space for the future.

***

Their hands found each other on her flat stomach. “We’re having a baby,” she announced like it still hadn’t sunk in.

“Yes. It’s rather a lot to take in. Have you gotten used to it?”

Her leg hopped in place with equal parts nerves and excitement. “Uh…I’m not as afraid, knowing you’re going to be with me, but I’m still scared shitless.”

“Me too,” he confessed, “but I’m getting happier. It’ll be a new adventure.”

“That’s an understatement. It complicates everything.”

A slow smile touched his mouth. “When haven’t we had complications?”

“You’re right. We’re the master of complications. It’ll be great!”

She rocked him. Then he picked her up and spun them around, making wet snow fly across the ground.

“We have to get back to the basics,” Jill declared. “Remember why we love each other.”

“I know why,” he uttered in a shaking voice, sparking a whole new crop of emotions inside her. “Because you’re home for me. That’s why I came back. It wasn’t Dare. It was you, Red.”

“I’m so happy about your restaurant.” She threw out their arms in a Victory formation. “You’re going to kick culinary ass, Bri. Make everyone who ever called you a mean name eat their words—literally.”

“Yep.” His grin made her own pop up like toast in a toaster. “And you’re an empire builder in the making, just like your grandfather.”

“It’s nice to be able to support each other’s dreams, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, tracing her cheek. “But know this. I’m planning on courting you a little longer, and then I’m gonna propose, Jillie. You have fair warning of my intention.”

“You’re not going to propose in a cemetery? Brian, you’re so unromantic,” she teased. The banter felt good, right.

He narrowed his eyes. Scanned the place. “Hmm…Jemma might like to see it. Maybe it’s not such a bad a place after all. That whole ‘death do us part’ would really ring true.”

She drilled a finger in his chest, hearing Jemma’s light-hearted laughter in her mind. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I do have something though. It’s not a ring—yet—so don’t freak out.” He pulled out the jewelry box and held it out.

The expectant look on his face told her what was inside.

“I had your necklace fixed. I hope you’ll wear it again. I don’t wear necklaces obviously, but I had the back of my watch engraved.” He took it off and showed it to her.
“J&B, BFFs.
And so much more.”

“Oh, Bri,” she whispered, fighting tears as she opened the box and tried to put it on.

When her gloves got in the way, he took his off and spun her around, fitting the clasp together. Their hands brushed the pendant.

“You’ll always have my heart.” His hand curled around her neck, fingering the chain, and pulled her by inches until their mouths all but brushed. “I love you, Jill. God, how much,” he breathed against her lips.

“I love you too,” she whispered and leaned up to fit their mouths together. Inside her, the rain receded. The sun came out. A new day dawned.

After a tangle of arms, a string of kisses, and drumming heartbeats, he pulled away. Grabbed a flower and handed it to her. “I don’t think Jemma would mind.”

She took the red daisy. Traced the gravestone with a finger tip.

“She’s not here, you know,” he reminded. “She’s here.” He pointed to her heart.

“I know,” she answered and pressed the flower to her chest. “Maybe we can go play some catch with the John Elway football.”

“Any other time, I would baulk. That’s an official autographed football. But in this case, I think Pete might like that.”