Part 10 (1/2)

”I don't-I think maybe this isn't a good idea, Brad,” I managed, my voice sounding weak. I hated it. I wanted to sound in charge.

His face fell, and that made me feel even worse.

”We have a life together, Andie,” he said, grasping my arms. ”A good one.”

”Based on what?”

He blinked and shook his head. ”What?”

”Based on what?” I repeated. ”Because we live in the same condo? Work out at the same gym? I don't even work out when we go there, Brad, I walk around and around the track till you're ready to go.”

Brad ran fingers through his hair, actually messing it up. He really must have been frustrated with me. ”What are you doing? I don't understand why we're doing this in the middle of a parking lot. I didn't understand why we did it in the middle of the yacht, either. I thought that's what the last twenty-four hours were for. So you could get your head right.”

”So I could get my head right,” I repeated. ”So I'd think like you.”

He stared at me like I spoke in tongues. In his defense, it probably seemed like that.

”I need for you to be my best friend, Brad.”

He blew out a breath. ”And you have that. My G.o.d, don't you know that by now?” he said, guiding me to the car. ”Can we go?”

But the closer I got to that car, the more nauseous I felt, so I stopped again, and he groaned.

”What's my favorite color?” I said, interrupting him.

”Seriously?”

”Not game playing here.”

Brad closed his eyes in his typical humor-Andie look. ”Blue?”

”Red,” I responded. ”What's my favorite breakfast food?”

He gave me a crazed look. ”Your favorite-what? We don't eat breakfast.”

”You don't eat breakfast,” I countered. ”I love it.”

He shrugged. ”I'm sorry. It's an unnecessary meal, usually stacked with carbs and sugar,” Brad said.

”I like carbs and sugar,” I said. ”I love waffles. And blueberry topping. And bacon. And donuts.”

Brad's face started to go serious as my ramble came to an end and the quiet rang loud around us. ”What's this about?”

”We don't know each other, Brad,” I said. ”Not really.”

”Are you kidding me?” he said. ”What don't we know?”

I looked him hard in the eyes. ”You don't tell me anything about your business.”

Brad held up his hands. ”I don't bring it home, Andie. That's not-”

”Don't say it's not important,” I said. ”You know Jesse pretty well, don't you?” I said, daring him with my eyes to lie to me. ”Way past we've met.”

Brad's face took on a different expression. Something from that other side of him I didn't know so well. ”Business is business, Andie. It's not personal.”

”It is to him,” I said, barely above a whisper. ”Our party was just a party to everyone else there. But when I didn't say yes, was it personal?”

His blue eyes flipped back to the Brad I thought I loved, actually misting over at the mention. ”How can you ask me that?”

”Exactly,” I said. ”What you do to people is personal, Brad.”

The longest silence ever pa.s.sed between us. ”This is about me and you, Andie,” he said finally. ”Not work, not food-”

”What kind of ring did I say I liked?” I asked.

”Small,” he said on a deep sigh of resignation. ”Simple.”

I narrowed my eyes. ”So that, you heard.” I looked down at the weight on my hand and held it up. ”And yet this is what you get?”

”Baby, every woman wants a big rock,” he said. ”I was trying to surprise you.”

But I was already shaking my head. ”No. Every woman doesn't. I told you what I liked. I even showed you. You chose what you wanted. What you decided I should want.”

”Okay,” he said, flinging his arms out to the side. ”I get it. I'll take it back and buy you a gold band if that's what you want. Or a different color for each day of the week. I'll tie a string around your finger-I don't care, I just want to marry you.”

Brad could be so cute when he let himself be disarming. If only that were more often.

”Why?” I asked, taking his face in my hands. I begged him with my eyes to tell me that.

He looked like he'd rather be flogged than answer that question, but he grabbed my hands and brought them to his lips. He looked tired, like he'd been worrying, and the guilt hit me in the gut. His blue eyes took me in, and I wondered if he would say it. I didn't even know if it would matter, but I wanted to hear it.

”Because we're good together, Andie. We were meant to be.”

There had been gravel and dust crunching under my feet the day before. Now the sucking action of my flip-flops in the shallow layer of mud was all there was. Just me, out there. With deep ruts where the wheels of my car had stood, before Brad Marcus drove it away.

I walked slowly to where the door to the diner used to be. It was gone, along with the porch and the bench. Jesse had laid three cinder-block bricks in front of the gaping hole in lieu of steps. Evidently he had done more than just watch me sleep.

I swiped under my eyes and stepped up into the mess that was once home to delicious aromas and the mingled conversations of a mult.i.tude of souls. I steadied myself with a couple of slow breaths, suddenly very unsure of my standing. My feelings weren't in question, and that's what had held me up like a concrete statue out by the car. Alone and standing amidst the wreckage of the diner, all that bravery was a little limp. I felt about as crumbly as all that was in front of me.

The photo of Jarvis and May caught my eye, their perpetual smiles not doing much to calm my nerves.

”You and my dad brought me here,” I whispered, pointing. ”Now you'd better help me out.”

As if on cue, canned items began flying out from behind the partially open pantry door, landing with thud after thud on the floor. Jesse appeared from around the door shortly afterward with a scowl and stopped short when he saw me. I saw the whole gamut of surprise, hope, and wariness cross his face, before he buried all that back down again. The push-away glaze took over his eyes, and he pushed his body back into action.

”Forget something, Fremont?” he said curtly, bending to pick up all that he had tossed out, and setting them on the bar.