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I spun to the right and assessed the banister. The once broken banister. Only now it had been repaired. The top had been screwed in and was now more secure than it had been since I’d moved into the house.
This was my problem.
Every time I thought I was finally ready to be 1,000 percent done with Liam Wells, he went and did something so…genuine. Kind. Out of the goodness of his heart. In tonight’s case, it was more likely out of guilt, but still. It was too confusing.
And just like that, my heart once again wouldn’t let me cross the man out as a possibility. Like it had when I was struggling with money a couple of Christmases ago and he’d put far too many extra toys under the tree for the boys with my name on them. When he not so subtly sent a strongly worded letter to my HOA manager because he’d overheard the lecture I received about leaving the boys’ bikes in the yard. When it was his turn to request dinner at Mama B’s house, he’d ask for the barbecue sandwiches I loved, even though he hated them. Installing security cameras around my house and texting me the app log-in so I would feel safe when I was home alone with the boys.
It was irritating. It was amazing. It was off-putting. It was impossible to write him off.
As long as he continued going this way, I’d never make up my mind. And I wasn’t sure the cracks in my heart that had developed slowly and split wide open during those last couple of years of our marriage would ever heal. Because for every dark moment, every time I told myself I never wanted to speak to the man again, there he was. A hero in an accountant’s clothing.
“What are you doing?” I fumbled with my keys, desperate to not falter in front of him.
“I wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he rumbled, his shoulders slumped and his face downcast.
He looked like a sad puppy, and I tried my best to not lean into it, tried to fight it as hard as I could. But the guilt from our almost kiss earlier was clearly written on his face.
“You could have texted.”
“Would you have answered?” He lifted his tortured eyes to mine.
Probably not…no. Not until later tonight, anyway.
I didn’t answer, but I jerked my head back to the fixed banister and lifted a brow in question.
He shrugged. “I got bored waiting for you.”
Impossible. The man was impossible.
Ridiculously, this strong need to invite him in rattled through me. I shoved it deep, deep down. You are mad. You have every right to be. He ruined the first date I’d been on in years.
I stomped my foot and closed my eyes. I couldn’t look at him right now or I’d crack. So I focused my gaze on the screwdriver poking out of the toolbox. “Liam, seriously, what are you doing?”
He cleared his throat, but he didn’t speak right away. He was likely running a hand through his hair like he always did when he was stressed.
“I wanted to apologize…for earlier. I crossed a boundary, and I didn’t want you to—I didn’t want us.” He took in a deep breath. “I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”
Was I all right? Physically, sure. Inside my head? There was an entire war being waged in there. Half of me was wondering why I hadn’t just kissed him so I could get it out of my system and move on. The other half was incredulous, wondering what had made me brush my lips against his in the first place.
Blowing out a breath, I forced myself to look at him. When I did, I found him watching me, eyes wide and full of a mix of trepidation and hope, searching for my answer. He was being so sweet. There wasn’t a hint of mockery in his tone. No jokes. No button pushing. Just this raw, genuine outline of a man I used to know.
Which made it a whole lot harder to shove him out of my head.
“I’m fine. Promise. We can forget it happened. Or almost happened, or whatever you want to call it.”
Did I want to forget it? Yes. Who was I kidding? Absolutely, I wanted the memory wiped from my brain. No more zoning out and thinking about the way he’d lovingly stroked my ankle or how his hips fit between my legs perfectly. How the woodsy scent of his cologne brought me back to days when we’d run and chase each other in the trees behind his parents’ house. It would be nice to forget.
Liam sucked in a breath, and I swore he winced. “If that’s what you want.” He nodded and stood, wiping his hands off on his pants and reaching for the toolbox.
As he was descending the stairs, I couldn’t help but survey his broad back. He stopped on the third step, knocking his knuckles on the railing, and looked at me over his shoulder. “Just, uh.” He licked his lips. “Just promise me something?”
I nodded, despite the nerves twisting my stomach.
“Don’t settle for someone like Hank. You deserve more.”
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I dipped my chin in agreement. I wasn’t agreeing that Hank wasn’t good enough for me, but I did feel like I deserved more. And, in my mind, more simply meant a settled, quiet life with my sons. I didn’t need a love interest to show me that. Liam, Hank, or otherwise. I could embrace this season of being single and take it for what it was, for now anyway.
With that, he gave me a sad smile. We watched each other for a moment too long before he finally righted himself and trudged to his car.
