Page 72 of Promise

“I’ll think about it,” I offer more cheerfully, slipping my hand into my pocket, knowing I won’t need to think about it. But I’m grateful for the suggestion.

Trinity watches me for another second before turning back toward the group, when Vale asks, “Are you guys just getting here?”

“We’re headed to Dockside,” Trinity explains. “And some of that barbecue chicken that smells amazing.” She hums and bounces on her toes before glancing back at me, offering a more genuine smile.

“We’re headed to the beer tent,” Vale says. “Book club soon?”

“Soon.”

The women hug again while the rest of us just stand there, eager for the tension to be released. After exchanging wishes to have a good evening, they wander away, and Trinity lets out a long exhale.

“Well, that went better than I expected.”

“That was awkward as fuck,” I say at the same time. I snort as I run my hand over my head and cup the back of my neck again.

But everything in due time, right? I might be saying I’m in a race, but this is more like a marathon. Three hundred miles is a long way to travel. I’m up for the drive.

21

[Trinity]

Once Dart and I have chicken dinners in Styrofoam containers and beers in bottles, we make our way to the grassy section along River Street. Dart spreads out a light blanket I had in the basket of the stroller, and we settle on it, each with our own thoughts at first.

When we saw Spencer Reid earlier, I didn’t know how to explain why I went out with him. Maybe deep down inside, I knew it would hurt Dart if he ever found out. That it might sting to know I’d gone out with someone Dart disapproved of. The date was innocent enough. One drink. Which ended with one kiss that was too wet and tasted like too much whiskey.

Spencer Reid is a horrible kisser, and I instantly regretted my actions.

It’d been a good reminder that I wasn’t over my ex-husband.

I don’t think I’ll ever be over Dart Rivers.

We’ve looked like a couple today. A family, maybe. All the back-touching and forehead-kissing. Dart was putting on quite a show, but I didn’t think it was an act. He was behaving like he would have behaved had we not fallen apart.

He was always physically attentive, until we were not.

And Tate needed to get over himself with the protective attitude. He’d been a constant tormentor when we were children and not much better as an adult, so it was surprising that he’d been upset once he found out Dart and I had been hooking up. He’d warned me about Dart’s manwhore ways and tried to steer me away from his friend. Equally shocking was how upset Tate had been about Dart leaving me.

Seeing Cort and Clint had been even harder. The hurt in Clint’s eyes and the questions in Cort’s. Neither understood Dart’s sudden decision to leave Haven Exteriors. Dart hadn’t only quit our marriage, he’d quit their business even though they considered him family.

Dart was the one who never felt like he was good enough. Then in the next breath, he’d vow to me that he’d spend his entire life trying to be enough.

Love was so complicated. Our current position proves it.

I’m sitting here with my ex-not-ex-husband, who has been gone for three years, but not forgotten by any of us. He’s not a blip in my memory, but someone I’ve felt present every day in one way or another.

Replaced, Dart said about his friendship with Tate.

The heaviness in the word gave me a glimpse of Dart’s perspective. Perhaps he felt he was replaceable. With Tate. Within my brothers’ company. With me. Which was the farthest thing from the truth.

He’d let people down, but they were still family. His family.

“That Ruby James is a cutie,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.

“Yeah, she’s adorable but can be a spitfire.”

Dart arches one brow. “Must run in the family.”

I snort. Dart already knows how hard it was when Clint brought Ruby James home. A daughter he didn’t know he had. A child he hadn’t ever wanted, but instantly loved, like I love Mirabelle. Still, it’d been hard to look at them. Difficult to appreciate he’d gotten all I ever wanted.