Marrying Daisy Bellamy. Сьюзен Виггс

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      “Just trying to be realistic.”

      “Were you being realistic when you said you loved me?”

      “I was being completely honest. I can’t help myself. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re going far away—”

      “That’s temporary.”

      “How temporary?”

      “I can’t say.”

      “I can. When you’re done in Colombia, they’ll send you someplace else.”

      “Active duty doesn’t have to mean continual deployment. Air force families move from posting to posting. The system works. It just takes some planning.”

      “That’s easy to say, but I have to think about Charlie.” She hugged her knees to her chest. “My little boy is my whole world.”

      “I understand that. I know how hard it’s been for you, raising him alone.”

      “Do you?”

      “My friend Sayers once told me air force training is a tea party compared to being a single mom. She was raised by a single mom.”

      “It’s hard, but … in a different way.” She wondered if the direction of the conversation had ruined this magical day. Julian was clearly in a romantic mood, and bringing up the topic of her son by another man might put a damper on things. But they should be able to talk about Charlie and not feel like the entire day was ruined.

      “Charlie’s great,” said Julian. “I’m in love with the kid. Always have been.”

      The statement caught her off guard. “You love him?”

      “Sure. What, you don’t believe me?”

      “I want to. But it’s just … you seem to hold back, when it comes to Charlie.”

      “Kids latch onto people, and they hurt when those people go away.”

      “Are you talking about Charlie, or are you talking about yourself, when you were a kid?”

      He didn’t contradict her. “I know what it feels like to have a broken family. Charlie should never have to feel that. So I don’t want to give him mixed signals. When I was little, growing up with my dad, I used to want a mama so bad, I’d fantasize about every woman my dad even looked at—a bus driver, a grocery checker, the crossing guard—if she said even two words to him, I was ready for him to pop the question. And I was disappointed every time. You have to understand how much it hurts a kid to want a traditional family. How much hope he hangs on the slightest encouragement. So maybe I’ve been too careful about Charlie, but that’s my take on it.

      I never wanted to make him a promise I couldn’t keep. That doesn’t mean I don’t love him.”

      Unexpected tears stung her eyes. “You never told me you loved him.”

      “Daisy. He’s your son. He’s never asked for anything except to be loved. How can I not love that?”

      Her heart turned to mush; she loved hearing him talk this way.

      “He can’t help it if his father’s a douche—”

      “Julian.” She knew he was still thinking of the fight on the train platform, the night everything had fallen apart. The fight had not caused the problem. The fight had been the culmination of the problem. The mushy part was over, clearly.

      “I’d never say that in front of the kid, but come on. And honestly, no matter what I think of Logan, I’d never let on to Charlie. And I’d never want to interfere with that relationship. I had a great dad. He wasn’t perfect, but I thought the world of him. So yeah, I get that Logan has to be part of Charlie’s life. A big part.”

      “I’m glad you understand. There are a few things in my life that are completely certain,” she reminded Julian. “The most important is my son. Every choice I make is dictated by what’s best for Charlie.”

      “I understand.”

      “Another constant is Logan. He is Charlie’s dad, which means he’ll always be part of my life, no matter what.”

      “Is he still in love with you?”

      She could still hear Logan’s voice in her ears, loud and clear. I’ll always love you, Daisy. I’ll wait as long as it takes.

      She ducked her head to hide her expression, but apparently she wasn’t quick enough.

      “I see,” said Julian.

      “I don’t think you do. I can’t tell you what Logan is thinking. Persistence is his middle name. I swear, I don’t encourage him. You know that. I want … God, Julian. I want this to be simple. Why is it so hard?”

      The rowboat bumped against the mooring bulkhead at the tiny island. Julian pulled a rope around a cleat. Then he extended a hand and helped her to the dock.

      He sat on the weathered wooden planks and drew her down beside him. “Have a seat. This might take a while.”

      “It might?”

      “I’ve got a lot to say to you.”

      Something in his tone made her shiver despite the heat. “I’m listening.”

      He steepled his fingers together and stared into the lake for a long moment. The still water was a mirror of dark glass. “It’s not hard. I’m not saying I hold all the answers. God knows, I didn’t have much to go on when I was a kid. My dad was all about intellect and process and the scientific method. My mom was focused on her acting career, her image, herself. I’ve spent the past few weeks wondering if I even have the emotional hardware for the kind of relationship I want with you.”

      She was stunned speechless to hear him talking like this. Maybe her silence was a good thing, because he was being more honest with her than he’d ever been before.

      “And I wondered why danger and risk feel good to me. Maybe it’s because whenever I took a risk and put myself in danger, people paid attention, sometimes just to yell at me. Even Connor—the sole reason we had a relationship at all was that he had to take charge of me when I got into trouble. But you, Daisy. You’re the first person who didn’t pay attention to me because I was doing something dangerous. You paid attention because … hell, I don’t know, but I know it felt different. Everything about you is different, the way you look and smell, the way you feel in my arms.”

      They weren’t even touching, yet Daisy had never felt closer to anyone than she did to Julian at this moment. She didn’t dare move or speak because she sensed this was hard for him and didn’t want him to stop.

      “I was seventeen years old the first time I met you,” he said, still staring into their reflection in the water, “and I wish I’d paid more attention then to the way you made me feel. Maybe I would’ve had the sense to find a way to stay close to you, after we parted ways that summer, instead of watching you head off to a bad situation. When I found out you were pregnant, I thought it was a sign СКАЧАТЬ