She avoided her gaze. “What about him?”
Kennedy leaned in. “How bad are you torturing him in class?”
Ella smiled slowly. “Really bad. Gave him an extra credit project. A little Woolf. A dash of Brontë. And a dose of Austen. Hopefully it will teach him a bit of how far women have come and how we don’t deserve to be called ‘darlin’ or ‘pretty little thing.’”
Her new friend laughed with delight. “Finally! Do you know how hard it was to break Nate of his habit of saying the most awful things to women? I had to electrocute him with a buzzer to re-form his habits.”
“You didn’t.”
Kennedy sighed. “Yeah. I did. At least it all worked out.” She took another sip of wine. “See, the thing about Connor is besides being gorgeous and a bit clueless, he’s got a great big heart that’s just waiting for someone to keep it safe. He protected Nate when their household fell apart. He took care of him, put him through college, and never thought twice about himself. A man like that is special, even if you have to dig a bit deeper to unearth it. That’s a man who you can count on for the long haul. Once he commits, he’s all in.”
Fascinated, she thought over the past weeks. The way he treated her son with a loving care that rocked her soul. His insistence on taking her car for an oil change, or fixing the backed up sink instead of calling the plumber. She remembered the roses on Valentine’s Day, and the hours he spent with them on a Saturday night playing board games. “Why does he continue to date women who mean nothing to him?” she finally asked.
“I think we all get hurt and hide in certain ways. His way was removing any depth from his relationships. Then he’ll always be safe.”
Ella stared thoughtfully into the golden liquid, swirling it around the edge of the glass. The words shot straight and true across the counter and fired a direct hit. Kennedy was right. It was almost as if he was comfortable slipping into a role he rarely questioned. He smiled, flirted, and kept things light. He seemed to do the same thing on all his dates. Did he not know anymore how to allow himself to really feel? More importantly, did he even want to try?
“You’re good at therapy, too. How do you see so much?”
“I spent years in therapy myself. I had issues galore. Still do. I learned one thing watching endless relationships begin, fail, break, and triumph.” Kennedy lifted her glass in a mock salute. “You just have to find the right crazy for you.”
Ella laughed and raised her own glass. “To the crazy.”
They clicked glasses. And drank.
* * * *
A few hours and a bottle of wine later, Nate trudged inside, pressing a kiss to the top of Kennedy’s head. Her hand automatically entwined with her lover in a rehearsed dance that had seeped into memory. A pang of envy hit Ella as she watched them, but it was a beautiful pang because it reminded her that type of love was out there.
“How’s it going, ladies?” He raised a brow at the empty bottle of wine. “Good, I see.”
“Very good,” Kennedy affirmed. “You guys need a break? I’ve got some brownies for Luke.”
“Did you bake them?” Nate asked.
Kennedy gave an affronted humph. “Of course not! I bought them at the bakery.”
“Thank God. Then he’ll love them.”
Ella laughed. “There hasn’t been a brownie Luke hasn’t liked. I’m surprised they’re still at it.”
Nate faced her. He was a handsome man, with a sexy goatee emphasizing his sharp features, and gorgeous brown eyes with swirls of green. He was shorter and leaner than Connor, but the resemblance was immediate in the thrust of the nose, arched brow, and brightness of their eyes. “Luke is a wonderful kid, Ella. You should be really proud. Not only is he respectful, but he’s a hard worker. Seems to have Connor’s talent for woodworking.”
“Thank you. Connor’s great with Luke. They seem to have bonded.”
Nate nodded, his gaze a bit foggy, like an absent-minded professor. “And with you,” he said. “I’ve never seen my brother so happy.”
She jerked in her seat. Trying to cover up her emotion, she jumped up. “Umm, I’m going to go check on them. Be right back.”
“Take the side door,” Kennedy said.
“Thanks.” Ella headed down the hallway and out to the back deck, making her way down toward the newly framed shed. Her boots made no noise on the steps, and she heard the mingling of voices as she drew nearer. She was about to raise her voice and yell their names when she stopped cold, ears straining to hear more.
“Dad doesn’t really care about me,” her son was saying. Ella pressed her hand against her mouth, wishing she could teleport and kill her ex-husband for hurting Luke. “He’s got this new woman now, and a new kid on the way. He doesn’t need me anymore.” His tone reflected an acceptance and bitterness a ten-year-old shouldn’t have to know.