Page 33 of Promise

Trin was different, closed off and sad. And I got lost in my head, thinking I wasn’t enough for her. Old comments came back to me, haunting me. I didn’t know how to be enough for her. But I never stopped loving her, wanting her. Wanting what this home represented. Us.

After Trin and I hooked up that first time, there was no turning back for me. I went to Russell Haven, wanting him to know my intentions regarding his daughter.

“I’d like to marry Trinity one day,” I’d openly admitted, cocky while still concerned the man I admired most would see me as not good enough for his girl.

“Son, I’ve known that since she was seventeen.”

I didn’t know how he knew that when I hadn’t known it back then. When I was twenty, and she was too young for me. But Russell always saw something in me I didn’t.

Potential, he’d once said. He said I somehow reminded him of himself. And he knew that potential could tip one way or another.

“Make certain it always leans in the right direction.” He glanced at his daughter when he said it.

He would have been so disappointed in me. The way I’d hurt Trinity. The way I tore us apart.

Now all I wanted was to put us back together again.

Which I could not do if she avoided me by staying out late.

Exiting the guest bathroom in frustration, wearing only a towel and scrubbing at the back of my wet hair, I almost plow into Trinity, hustling down the hallway.

“Dart.” She shrieks like she’d forgotten I was staying here, albeit in the second bedroom. A room intended for guests.

I watch as her gaze lands on my belly. Her eyes blow wide, and she repeats my name on an anguished whisper.

The black and blue marks on my midsection are making their way to a nasty yellowish-green color.

To my surprise, Trinity steps closer. While I’m the one who just showered, I catch a whiff of her sunshine and fresh meadows scent. A fragrance that haunts me.

Her gaze never leaves my waist, and I stand taller, letting her have her fill. Those brilliant dark eyes soften. Her hand comes forward, fingers shaky, as she reaches for my ribs, then she catches herself just an inch away from making contact with my skin and jerks her hand back, leaving me feeling empty and deprived.

Instead, she wraps her hand around her throat and swallows. “The accident?”

“The accident.” The one that could have taken my life.

Her eyes don’t leave my bare chest, and my heart rate accelerates. I hold my breath as her gaze roams upward to my throat and then straight back down my middle to the line of hair leading south. She might as well have skimmed my flesh with her fingertips because that slow gaze makes my skin pebble.

She clears her throat and glances to the left. “You probably shouldn’t be on the roof.”

I probably shouldn’t. Her brothers could have taken care of that repair, but I want to do it.

“Nah. Don’t you worry about me.” I was terrible at sitting still, which is where racing came in. I loved the speed. Zero to one hundred in a matter of seconds. A sharp curve. A smooth straightaway. I loved the attempt to control something so fast, so reckless.

And it was killing me that I didn’t know how to go slow with Trin. With my wife.

I wasn’t certain it’d sunk in for her yet. We are still married. Even if we felt like separate individuals, we are technically still a couple.

Stepping closer to her, I pinch a section of her hair, sliding my fingers down the short length. The outside of my thumb brushes her cheek.

“You cut your hair. I like it.” My voice is quiet, rough, almost raw. She’s different in so many ways, and yet, she looks exactly the same as the day I opened my eyes to her.

Beautiful.

Back then, she was seventeen and too young for me. She had a bright future ahead of her, and I wasn’t where I needed to be. Yet. But knowing someday I wanted to bask in her sunshine.

“Yeah, well, things have changed,” she states, stepping back. “I’ve changed.”

That step away reminds me of the great divide between us. The length of time I’ve been gone, trying to work on myself while giving her space.