Chapter Thirty
Quinn
I roll out of bed the next morning exhausted and more than a little confused. And if I’m being honest with myself, I’m hurt. The day before was almost perfect. Bram put so much thought and detail into each activity, and then that kiss! I could swoon right now thinking about it.
I can’t stop replaying the kiss he gave me as he held me close while dancing. His whispered promise of more kisses to come left me melting on the spot. But then Lawrence showed up and ruined everything. Seriously, out of all the people I could run into, he wasn’t in the realm of possibilities.
Bram was distant the rest of the night. Is he that angry with me? I can’t deny that I’d hoped when we returned home he would kiss me again. But no. No peck on the cheek or forehead before bed. Not even a goodnight hug.
My chest aches with disappointment, and I may have cried myself to sleep, though sleep isn’t exactly the word I’d use for it. I tossed and turned all night long trying to pinpoint exactly what had upset Bram the most.
The more I think about his reaction, the more certain I am that Bram wasn’t aware of Lois’s wild days until last night. With how close they’ve always been, how Lois managed to keep it a secret from Bram is beyond me.
Sighing, I trudge to the shower. I can hear Bram moving around in the kitchen. I crave a cup of coffee, but I can’t bring myself to face him yet.
Does he regret the kiss? Is he going to apologize like he did when he kissed me in front of Jovie? I’m not sure my heart can take another rejection.
After checking my blood sugar, taking insulin, and eating—I keep snacks everywhere these days, which turns out to be a good thing at that moment—I finally get dressed and make my way into the living room.
Bram is standing outside the French doors, his back toward me as he gazes off toward the beach. I take a moment to watch my husband. His shoulders appear stooped this morning as if he carries the weight of the world on them. I know the feeling well. The wind tousles his blond locks and my heart pinches. The urge to go out and wrap my arms around him is so strong I have to turn away.
I suck in a deep breath as the door opens. Footsteps sound behind me before stopping.
“Hey.” Bram’s low voice rumbles through my body, and I close my eyes for a beat to embrace the feeling.
Turning around, I smile—at least I hope it’s a smile and not a grimace. “Hey.”
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he rocks back on his heels, avoiding my eyes. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Mrs. Graham to church this morning.”
“Oh. Of course not.” My brow puckers. “Does she normally go?”
He shrugs. “I thought so, but couldn’t remember if I’ve seen her there. I don’t think she can drive, and she doesn’t have any family here, so I thought I’d ask in case she’s been wanting to but can’t get there.”
Guilt rushes over me. “I didn’t even think about it. I feel bad now.”
Bram flashes a quick smile, his dimples making a short appearance. “It’s okay. We’ll take her every Sunday if she wants.”
My heart fills at his sweet offering. He is such a good man. Now if we can get over the awkwardness of last night and get back to the place we were at before Lawrence. I want to talk to him about it, but I don’t know how to bring it up. Do I just walk up to him and ask, “Hey, husband, want to make out?” My face burns thinking about how uncomfortable that conversation would be. Shaking my head, I decide that Bram will have to be the one to initiate the conversation.
About twenty minutes later, we’re ready and Bram is helping Mrs. Graham to the car. She clings to his arm, looking up at him with a gleam in her eyes. When I try to offer her the front seat, she refuses.
“I am perfectly fine with the back seat. A wife belongs with her husband.”
My eyes flick to Bram, our gazes locking for a moment, and I find myself wanting more than anything to truly belong to him. I divert my attention back to Mrs. Graham as Bram opens the back door for her.
We are barely out of the driveway when Mrs. Graham says, “Now, don’t be shy on my account.”
I look over my shoulder, my brow furrowed. “I’m sorry?”
She dips her head at Bram and me. “A husband and wife don’t need to be shy about touching one another just because someone’s around. You can hold his hand. It won’t bother me any. I like seeing young people in love. Brings brightness to my days.” She smiles, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Oh,” I breathe, unsure what else to say. I turn back to face the road, not daring to look at Bram.
“It’s okay,” he whispers and holds his hand out. But as I slip my hand in his and the warmth of his touch sends flames flickering from my hand to my toes, I know it isn’t okay.
Not in the least.
Mom invites Mrs. Graham to join us for our Sunday meal, which is doubling as my birthday party. I thought the distraction would help me forget about everything going on—or not going on—between Bram and me, but it doesn’t.
Not only is he in the same room laughing and chatting with everyone, flashing those gorgeous dimples of his, but he’s also playing the part of dutiful husband by lingering near where his woodsy scent keeps distracting me to no end. When he leans down and brushes a kiss on my cheek, my stomach flips over in excitement. Then, he clears his throat and averts his gaze.
That’s when I notice Jovie watching us with a grin on her face. Of course. He’s doing it to keep up appearances. My heart falls and my eyes burn—a sure sign that tears are close if I don’t do something about it.
Thankfully, Mrs. Graham hobbles over to join me. Her all-knowing eyes dart between Bram and me, a small smile on her face.
“You know, dear,” she says in a hushed voice so only I can hear. “My Winston and I had an . . . unconventional start to our marriage.”
Frowning, I glance around to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “Oh really?”
She nods. “Oh, yes. You see, I was in a rather compromised situation.” She turns to look at me. “I did not make the wisest of choices in my youth, and my mistakes caught up with me when I found myself pregnant and unwed.”
My eyes widen slightly as she chuckles. “Of course, back then was a lot different than now. Not saying it was right then or now. But most families are more supportive these days.” Sighing loudly, she continues. “My father wanted to send me away, but Mama begged him not to. He was so mad. Until he came home the next day and said he’d found me a husband.
“Winston Graham. He wasn’t a stranger, but he was a few years older than me. I’d seen him in church a few times. I thought my father was joking, but the next day, Winston and I were married.”
“Wow,” I reply. “That must have been scary.”
She nods. “Oh yes, it was. But my Winston,” she pauses, her eyes taking on a dreamy quality, “he was such a kind and patient man. It didn’t take long for me to fall for him.”
My eyes inadvertently drift to where Bram is now chatting with Cryus, neither one of them looking very happy. My gaze lingers as I take in his khakis and blue dress shirt, the shadows contouring the sharp lines of his face, and his dark blond hair that’s begging for me to run my fingers through it. Something inside me stirs.
I’m falling for Bram.
Realization dawns and I snap my focus back to Mrs. Graham, who is smirking at me with an astute glint in her eyes. “Oh yes, dear. I know about your marriage.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “And I think your husband is falling for you just as much as you’re falling for him.” She frowns slightly. “But you may have to give him a little more time and patience. Sometimes men can be thick-headed about what they need.” Snorting, she says, “Or even what they want. But don’t give up. Love can bloom from the most unlikely of places. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He may not realize it yet, but he will soon.”
I tuck her words away into the deepest corners of my heart, wondering if she’s right. I’ve heard the way she talks about her late husband—full of love and emotion. Can Bram and I grow to love one another as Mr. and Mrs. Graham had?