Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(53)

Bryn joined her. “Right about what?”

“It’s better not to love someone who can’t love you back.” Lillith sighed and averted her gaze. “When my contract with Ferrin was approved, I thought myself the luckiest girl in the world. He was so handsome. When he came to call on me at school, he was the perfect gentleman. All my classmates were jealous.

“It wasn’t until we were married that I noticed his lack of warmth. At first, I thought I’d done something wrong. Gradually I came to realize he’d never recovered from your mother’s defection. I could never live up to her memory. So I stopped trying.”

Not knowing what else to say, Bryn went with her gut. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I have a good life. My son loves me. And I have another child on the way. I’m happy. You could be happy with Jaxon.”

It was difficult to swallow over the lump in her throat. Lillith and her grandmother meant well, but a loveless life would never be enough. “There is no way Ferrin will allow me to marry Jaxon.” Thank God. “It’s silly to discuss this.”

“A few weeks ago, I would’ve agreed. Rhianna’s accident opened a door for you. Jaxon is handsome, smart, and loyal.”

Bryn sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s stubborn and he has a foul temper.”

A slow grin spread across Lillith’s face. “Must be like looking in a mirror.”

Not like she could argue that point. “Fine. Our temperaments are similar. That alone should be reason for us not to marry. Think about how obnoxious your grandchildren would be.”

“I know you respect my son,” Lillith went on, ignoring Bryn’s argument. “And he respects you. That is a good foundation for a relationship.”

This conversation was going nowhere. Bryn pushed to her feet. “Believe what you will. I’m going to change out of this dress, go back to Fonzoli’s and spend time with Valmont.”

When she reached the restaurant there was a line out the door of people waiting to be seated. Crap. Maybe she could sneak in the back. The door to the kitchen stood wide open to let the heat out. Should she go in?

Valmont’s grandfather saw her and waved her inside, spouting something in Italian. The only word she understood was “Valmont.”

The door to the dining room swung open and Valmont strode in. Just seeing him made her feel better. When he looked up and grinned, her stress melted away. His single dimple was like therapy. The hug he pulled her into felt heavenly. He smelled like Italian spices.

“Come with me. I want to show you something.” He grabbed her hand like it was the most normal thing in the world and led her through a door at the back of the kitchen and up a flight of narrow wooden stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“My secret sanctuary.” At the top of the stairs, Valmont produced a key from his shirt pocket and unlocked the door before gesturing for Bryn to go in. “Ladies first.”

A strange sense of déjà vu came over her. Jaxon had said those same words outside the baby clothing store, but hadn’t meant them. Jerk. Valmont meant it.

The polished oak floors and walls of the attic room gleamed in the light. A marble-topped table sat in the middle of the room. The matching chairs were black cast-iron with gray cushions. She blinked. It was patio furniture.

A glider swing sat in the far corner of the room with matching chairs. Colorful pots of roses and other flowers were scattered around the room on small tables or lined up against the baseboards. Their sweet scents permeated the room. “It’s a garden. How’s that possible?”

“Look up,” Valmont said.

The roof was punctuated with rows of windows. There were so many, and so evenly spaced, the ceiling resembled a checkerboard made of light and dark squares.

“I love it.”

“My grandmother loves to garden, so my grandfather built this room as a wedding gift so she would always have a garden no matter the season.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Why don’t you pick a chair, and I’ll go fix us a couple of cappuccinos.”

“Sounds good.” She wandered the room smelling different flowers. Several roses were in full bloom, and half a dozen buds appeared ready to burst. She touched a red rose, channeling a bit of Quintessence into the soil. The buds burst open and their fragrance filled the air.

Maybe she could become a florist or a gardener. Beautiful flowers made people happy. If she was a florist or a gardener, she could move back to the human world and leave this entire mess behind. But then she wouldn’t be able to fly whenever she wanted or become a medic. Damn her grandmother for putting those thoughts into her head.

The sound of Valmont’s footsteps on the stairs kept her from trying her skills on another plant. He entered the room carrying a small tray with two steaming cups of cappuccino, sugar, and cream.

She inhaled the rich coffee scent. “That smells fabulous.”

Once they were seated at the table, he seemed content to drink his coffee in silence. After a few minutes, she couldn’t take the quiet. “What does your family do for Christmas?”

“I have a sister and an older brother who are married. Between them they have three boys and two girls. Christmas Eve, my parents, siblings, and all the assorted nieces and nephews squeeze into my grandparents’ house, eat until we’re about to burst, and then have a ping-pong tournament.”