Daughters Of The Bride(104)
“I’d like a decaf,” he said. “What about you?”
“Sure. Thank you.”
He knew where everything was. As he collected the pods and mugs, she went into the living room and settled in one of the chairs. On purpose. With the sofa, she would worry about where to sit. One end? The middle? A chair was much safer.
Greg brought in their coffees a few minutes later. He sat on the end of the sofa closest to her.
“My mom was telling me I don’t bring you around enough,” he told her.
“I’ll have to stop in and see her the next time I pick up Josh.” Rachel had always liked Greg’s parents. “How’s it going living with them?” Because he’d moved in with them after the divorce.
“Not bad. They mostly leave me alone.”
“You ever think about getting a place of your own?”
“Sometimes. I’m waiting.”
That got her attention. Waiting for what? For them? Her heart began to beat faster in her chest. Was this it? Were they going to talk about their relationship now? She opened her mouth, closed it, then decided to let him bring it up.
“How is it going with Josh and his chores?” he asked.
Okay, not the subject she’d been expecting. “I haven’t done much with that,” she admitted.
“I could tell from the chart on the refrigerator. Why don’t you want him doing chores?”
“I do.”
“But?”
She shifted on her seat. “I don’t know. It’s easier to do it myself. Then I know it’s done right.”
“I thought you hated cleaning up after him in the bathroom.”
“Well, if you’re going to use logic,” she murmured, then sighed. “You’re right. I need to get him to clean his bathroom.”
Greg’s dark gaze was steady. “You really have trouble asking for help, don’t you? How much of that is about me, and how much of it is your dad?”
She stiffened. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“I’m sure you don’t, but you should. Come on, Rachel, you’ve always had trouble letting other people do things for you. Help me understand why that is.”
“I just...” She picked up her coffee, then put it back on the coffee table. “I’ve always been that way.” She could remember her mother crouched in front of her, tears in her eyes. “Be a good girl for me, Rachel. Please. I need you to take care of things.”
“You took on a lot when your dad died,” Greg said gently. “Too much.”
“My mom depended on me.”
“You did her proud, I’m sure. Then you married me and I was in no way ready for that kind of responsibility. So once again you got stuck doing it all. What was the lesson you learned? That if you depend on someone, they’ll let you down?”
“Someone’s been reading a lot of self-help books.”
“True, but that doesn’t answer the question.”
She’d been hoping he wouldn’t notice. “I am afraid,” she admitted. “I trusted you, Greg. With everything I had, and you let me down.”
“I know. I’m sorry. If I could take that back, I would. I was wrong. No matter what was happening between us, I didn’t have the right to do that. But I hope you understand my cheating was a symptom, not a goal.”
“You were angry and frustrated,” she admitted. “I knew that. I felt like I couldn’t get your attention and you thought I was never happy.”
Which she hadn’t been, she thought to her herself. Not at the end.
“I wish you’d think about trusting me now,” he said quietly. “I’m doing my best to show you that you can. I meant what I said before. There isn’t anyone else. There hasn’t been.”
“For, ah, me, either.”
He smiled. “Good. I’m glad you believe me.” He glanced at his watch. “I have an early start tomorrow. I need to get home.”
Just like that? Didn’t he want to stay and maybe make out with her? Obviously not.
She rose. “Thanks for bringing dinner.”
“You’re welcome. Get on Josh about doing his chores. He’s a capable kid. Have a little faith.”
“I will.”
“I hope that’s true, Rachel. More than you know.”
24
“THEY’RE ALL BALLADS.” Collins spoke defiantly, as if expecting an argument.
Bryan sucked in a breath. “Dude.”
“I couldn’t help it,” Collins said. “That’s what they are.”
Quinn studied the music. Collins preferred to get the melody nailed down before he added lyrics. Quinn could work any way his artists wanted. But he was known to not appreciate a ballad, no matter how well they sold.