Chapter Twenty-Five

Emotions warred inside James as Andrea wept against him, her body shaking, her tears soaking his shoulder. He didn’t trust his voice in the grip of burning anger toward the man who had wounded her so deeply she’d had to turn her back on everything that was important to her. Instead he just tightened his arms around her and smoothed her hair with his free hand.

It all made sense now, though: her reluctance to let down her guard, her determination to believe he was just another entitled celebrity, her need to reassure herself she wasn’t merely a conquest to him. She had carried a terrible burden all these years. She had been pregnant, devastated, and treated cruelly, when she deserved to be protected and cherished.

Like he would do, if given half a chance.

The thought ambushed him and drained the air from the room. His heart thudded so hard in his chest, he was sure it would jolt her from his arms. What exactly was he thinking here? He couldn’t possibly be having serious thoughts about a woman he’d known less than a week. It had taken six months of dating Cassandra to admit they were in a committed relationship, and more than two years until he’d worked up the courage to ask her to marry him.

Maybe that should have been an indicator it wasn’t meant to be. Before he could dwell further on those disturbing thoughts, he realized Andrea’s body had stilled and her tears had subsided. Still, she clung to him, her head tucked into the spot between his neck and shoulder. Her vulnerability took his breath away.

She pulled back, her gaze sliding past him to the piano. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .” She moved away from him down the bench, straightening her clothing as she went. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and the stiffness in her body spoke of embarrassment. As much as it pained him to see the invisible shield go up around her again, she would never trust him if he forced the issue.

“I’ll go reheat our coffee.” James straightened his legs, cramped from his awkward position on the piano bench, and collected their coffee mugs. As he took them to the microwave, he heard the tentative notes of the piano begin again. He’d been afraid she would close up to him completely, but the quiet melancholy strains of the piano made him think she was merely gathering her thoughts.

If she’d really turned her back on the woman who’d risked everything on love, she would have given up her music completely, wouldn’t she have?

He almost groaned aloud. First, he’d let Ian make him second-guess all his choices, and now he was psychoanalyzing a woman he barely knew, trying to assess her readiness for a relationship he’d spent the last two years insisting he didn’t want.

Wasn’t that why he’d dated pretty young women who were happy to take what he was willing to give? Because he knew they couldn’t tempt him out of a vow of permanent bachelorhood?

He thumped his head against the cabinet, hard. Ian deserved whatever torture James could devise for leading him down a slippery slope of . . . self-examination.

Andrea’s idle playing had turned into a quiet, moody melody he didn’t recognize. He removed their mugs from the microwave and went back to the reception room. He sat back down on the bench, but this time he didn’t try to touch her. “What is that?”

“I don’t know.” Red still rimmed her eyes and tears had dried in faint tracks down her cheeks, but she seemed settled now, if not entirely peaceful. “Do you like it?”

“You’re just making that up?” It had the sound of a fully composed piece, not something she was creating on the fly.

“I play when I’m upset.” She lifted her hands from the keys, but the chord faded away slowly. “I . . . I’m sorry, Jamie. I know you weren’t asking for all this. We don’t even know each other.” She glanced up and fixated on the wet blotch on his shoulder. “I’ve made a mess of your sweater.”

It took all he had not to take her in his arms again and tell her he wanted to know everything about her, but he stopped himself just in time. He’d already said he was infatuated with her. Any more and he risked looking like a lovesick idiot.

Did he actually just think that?

He threw her a smile instead. “Don’t worry. I’m washable.”

She struggled for words. “I understand if you . . . I mean, I know we . . .” She broke off and chewed her bottom lip. “It doesn’t matter, does it? I only have one day left here.”

“Andrea, nothing you have told me changes the way I see you. If anything, it makes me realize how amazing you really are. You’ve made a wonderful life for yourself.”

“I’m broken,” she whispered.

“We’re all broken. We’re only human. Some wounds only God can mend. If we let Him.” He took her hand. “I haven’t been so good at that myself. But I’ve been thinking perhaps I’m ready to try.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them gently.

She flinched at his touch, and her abrupt withdrawal made him feel like he was falling off a cliff. He scrambled for purchase on the slippery edge, tasting desperation. He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “I don’t know what comes next, Andrea. But I’m willing to figure it out.”

Tears sprang to her eyes again, glistening in the dim light. “Jamie, I might not be able to have children.”

If he had been falling, now he was jerked to an abrupt stop. Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t this. “Because of the miscarriage?”

She wasn’t looking at him again, but she nodded. “They were overaggressive because I could have died. The damage is probably irreversible. No one knows if . . . It could be difficult. It could be impossible.”

And like that, everything else fell into place. The respectable men she could date would want families of their own. The ones who didn’t care were the ones who wanted something she wasn’t willing to give. No wonder she’d devoted herself to work. Why set herself up for heartbreak?

He moved carefully, not wanting to spook her. This wasn’t a discussion anyone had until they’d been dating for months. Not just a few days and a few kisses into an acquaintance that might not have a chance to develop into more. But he didn’t have the time to let things unfold naturally. “There is more than one way to build a family, Andrea.”

Her tears were back. Before they could spill over, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her slowly and carefully, handling her like a breakable thing. When she pulled away, her wondering look did terrifying things to his insides.

He clawed back to some sense of normalcy. “What do you say to a quiet movie in tonight? I imagine I could even find us some popcorn to go with it.”

“That sounds perfect.” She rose from his lap and settled herself a safe distance away on the bench once more.

“My laptop is still down at the cottage. Do you want to stay here and play while I go get it? I won’t be long.”

“If you don’t mind. Jamie?”

“Yes, love?”

She smiled and reached for his hand. “Hurry back.”

His heart lifted. He retrieved his keys and quickly exited the front door. Just as he closed it behind him, Andrea’s melody started again, this time with a hopeful lilt.