He wasn’t sure where their relationship was going to go after tonight, but at least he knew she wouldn’t turn away from him out of fear. She hadn’t hated what she saw.
He stood silently and stretched his arms toward the ceiling. Muscles in his back protested, and he breathed in and out, willing oxygen to those abused muscle fibers. He was going to be sore as hell tomorrow and so would Sophie. Best to stretch and keep from getting stiff to give himself a better chance to heal from the bruising and soreness quickly.
Rolling his shoulders, he turned to look at her. He’d relished the chances to watch her sleep over the past couple of days. Maybe it made him a creeper, but it didn’t stop fascinating him, the way she was beautiful in any light. It didn’t matter if she was curled up in a chair or sprawled out taking up an entire king-size bed.
Years. It’d been years since he’d bought the acres for Hope’s Crossing Kennels and broken ground for the buildings. She’d sought him out once she’d heard he was back in town. She’d offered him her friendship like he’d never left.
Then, he’d thought it was the start at rebuilding a life for himself that he’d been looking for. He’d been happy for it and promised himself her friendship would be good enough.
Her father hadn’t ever brought up their conversation again, but Forte had been aware of the old man’s scrutiny. The wariness had remained. And he’d maintained his distance, preserved his cherished friendship, and told himself it was enough.
But Sophie had been right. He’d betrayed her. He’d taken away her choice in the matter.
In a lot of ways, he’d rebuilt his life all right. He’d built it right from the place they’d left off, thinking that was what he needed to be happy.
The past few days had taught him differently. He hadn’t needed to go back to where he’d started. He’d only wanted it.
Truth was, he needed a hard reset. Now that he knew what to do, he wasn’t sure Sophie’s friendship would be there for him to build from here.
*
“Mr. Forte?”
Sophie woke with a start at the quiet words. Within seconds, she processed the cool greens of the small office at the veterinarian’s.
Brandon stood within reach, facing the nurse at the door. “Yes?”
The nurse glanced at Sophie. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Oh no. Don’t worry about it.” Seriously. Compared to the rest of the night—hell, the whole week—this was peanuts. “How’s Haydn?”
The nurse pressed her lips together, then smiled. “The doctor is just washing up and then he’ll be ready to talk to you. Haydn is in recovery.”
Tension seeped out of Brandon’s shoulders, and emotion welled up in Sophie, spilling over as a happy tear. With all of the damned crying she’d been doing that day, this was one moment when tears were welcome. Happy tears.
Recovery meant Haydn was alive.
Sophie settled back into the chair to wait and give Brandon space. He was a man with a lot of emotion, and he didn’t like to admit it, even to her.
He surprised her by turning and kneeling next to her. “I know you might not be inclined, but I’d really appreciate a hug right now.”
She stared at him. She’d never, ever deny him comfort. The thought froze in her head as she remembered their argument.
Her words had stuck with him and he wasn’t sure where they stood anymore.
Neither was she.
He closed his eyes. He never did that around anyone, not out in public. “I broke your trust. I don’t know if I can build it back. I’ll understand if you decide not to give me the chance.”
As she continued to stare at him, the compartmentalization was happening. The Brandon she knew was withdrawing in minute changes of expression. His posture was becoming stiffer. The humanity was leaching away from his face, turning his formerly neutral expression to a frightening blankness.
She sobbed. No, no, this wasn’t what she wanted. It was like her Brandon was leaving even if he was kneeling there in front of her. No.
She threw her arms around his shoulders, almost losing her balance and falling out of the chair.
His arms came around her and he lifted her back onto the chair. Then he lifted her again and set her so her legs were stretched out and elevated.
“We need to get you a bag of ice.” His voice was gruff, full of emotion again. This was her Brandon. “I’ll be right back.”
He stepped outside and left the door open a crack so she could hear him out in the hallway.
She wrapped her arms around herself and considered what’d just happened.
The idea of him withdrawing, losing the part of him she’d come to associate with her friend, was out of the question. But how could they go back to being friends?
It was confusing.