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“Hey,” Michael said quietly. We both turned to look at him. “I was thinking maybe Nora and I could bring you breakfast tomorrow. From that donut place you like?”
“Together?” She stopped in her tracks and pivoted on her toes to face him with her hands on her hips. “You’d be bringing me breakfasttogether?”
“Yes.” He met her pointed gaze calmly. “I’m spending the night at her place, so it only makes sense we’d be together.”
I tripped on air, barely managing to catch my balance on my skinny four-inch heels. Michael’s hand went to my waist, steadying me. It was hard not to think of that touch as a metaphor, a sign that he would always have my back, no matter what ridiculous shenanigans I got myself into. That there wouldn’t be treacherous misunderstandings, and words could just be easy again.
That maybe lovecouldbe safe, with Michael.
But that was silly. He just didn’t want me to skin my knees on the gravel, that was all.
“Sam can sleep in. I’ll watch the kids,” he continued. “You and Nora can take your coffee on the porch and relax.”
I blinked. Goddammit, this man. Compassion was second nature to him. I reached for his hand, giving it a quick squeeze of gratitude before setting him free again.
Suzie didn’t even look at me. “I never say no to child-free breakfast.”
She didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about sharing that child-free breakfast withme, but okay. I would take what I could get.
Chapter 22
Michael
Misunderstood.
The word reverberated in my head for the rest of dinner. It was there when I dropped Suzie and Kate, tipsy and giggling, off at their respective homes. I was still thinking about it when I pulled up to Nora’s place and cut the engine.
Misunderstood.
It had given me a weird feeling of déjà vu, alarm bells ringing through my brain, when Grant had said that in his clipped, uppity voice. Where had I heard that before? Now, looking at Nora’s car parked next to mine, I remembered. I swore softly.
Nora. I had heard it from Nora. Always in reference to herself.
Which was interesting, considering I would bet my front teeth that she hadn’t misunderstood a damn thing. Not when it came to Grant.
I exited my truck, came around to her window, and knocked. “Are we going inside?”
She nodded and grabbed her purse. Neither of us said a word as I followed her up the brick walk to the porch. Inside, I watched her greet Brandon, who lifted his head and gave her hand a sleepy lick.
“Good boy,” she whispered. “Thebestboy.”
I pulled her into my arms. We had to talk about it—allof it—but first I needed to know she was okay. She had gone out a damn window instead of facing Grant and me in the same room together. That spoke of some pretty deep issues.
“You okay? After what happened tonight?” I asked.
She fiddled with the collar of my flannel, not meeting my eyes. “Suzie’s mad.”
“You’ll fix it tomorrow.”
She nodded, looking less than convinced.
I glanced at the clock. A little past eleven. I squatted down, running my hand down her calf as I went, and gave her foot a squeeze. She lifted it for me, allowing me to take off her shoe. “Tired?”
“Not really. I think I still have a little adrenaline in my system from my window escape.” She made an audible sigh of relief and wiggled her toes. I reached for her other foot and removed that shoe as well.
I straightened, turned her around, unzipped her dress and helped her out of it. Normally this would be a precursor to sex, but tonight I had something else in mind. First, though, she needed to be comfortable.
She shivered in the cold. I pulled my flannel over my head, leaving me in a white tee. “Here.”
