Delilah Green Doesn't Care(Bright Falls #1)(103)

Claire took the card, felt the thick paper between her fingers, the glossy, navy blue writing slightly raised.


JOSH FOSTER HOMES, LLC



Her head snapped up. “Wait . . . the projects you’ve been working on . . . They weren’t with Holden’s company?”

He shook his head, then paused. “Well, yeah, the first couple were. But the last two, the ones I’ve been doing up here? All mine.”

“You did it.”

“I did it.”

She smiled at him, her chest suddenly feeling tight and warm at the same time. “Josh, I’m . . . I’m sorry I didn’t—”

He shook his head, putting up a hand to cut her off. “No, don’t do that. I deserved your doubt. I know I did.”

She released a breath, and he turned to face her.

“But I’m here now,” he said. “I’m here for good. I’m not the same stupid kid I was when we had Ruby. Hell, I’m not the same stupid kid I was two years ago. I hope I can earn back your trust.”

Claire reached out and squeezed his hand. “I hope so too. This is a hell of a start.”

He laughed and squeezed back. “I want us to be a family.”

She nodded. “Me too.”

Then his face fell and his mouth dropped open a little. “But, I mean, not a family family.”

She tilted her head at him, frowning.

“I mean . . .” He pulled his fingers from hers and scrubbed a hand through his hair. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but Claire could’ve sworn he was blushing. “I know sometimes when I’ve come back to town we’ve . . . well, we’ve . . .” He waved his hand between them.

“Screwed?” she asked. His eyes went so wide she laughed. “Oh, come on, Josh. We’re adults. We can call it what it was.”

His shoulders relaxed, and he laughed too. “Okay, yeah. But I don’t think we should anymore.”

She just lifted her brows at him.

He shook his head. “It doesn’t help either of us be a good parent to Ruby. And honestly, in the past, I wonder if us having sex was half the reason I bolted. Not that any of that was your fault. It was all me, but well, the sex confused me. Scared me. And I just want to be a good dad and a good co-parent for you.”

Claire nodded, honestly shocked at the wisdom he was spouting. “Yeah. All that makes sense.”

“And we don’t love each other like that. Not anymore.”

“No, we don’t.”

“And I want to have that with someone someday.”

She smiled. “I want that for you too.”

“And there’s the fact that you’re completely in love with someone else.”

Her smile dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

He laughed. “Admit it.”

“I can’t admit to something I don’t understand.”

“Oh, please. Claire. You and Delilah. It’s obvious.”

“It absolutely is not. You saw us together, what? Once?”

“Once was enough. I know she’s got a complicated past in Bright Falls,” Josh went on, “but I’ve never seen anyone look at you like she did. Not even me. And you looked at her the same way.”

“And how was that?”

“Like you’d follow her to the moon.”

She chewed at her bottom lip and turned back to face the lake. She didn’t understand why everyone couldn’t let it go. Why everyone seemed to think the way Delilah merely looked at Claire meant she was madly in love. You couldn’t judge that from a look. You couldn’t judge anything from a look.

So why did she suddenly feel the need to cry long, shuddering sobs that would hopefully dislodge this ache in her heart? She shook her head, muttered fuck under her breath, because if any situation called for a good f-bomb, it was this one.

Josh nudged her with his shoulder. “What are you so afraid of?”

She laughed through her falling tears, wiping under her eyes. “Where do I start?”

He looked at her expectantly, and she realized he really wanted to hear her answer.

She sagged against him. “I’m scared of getting hurt. I’m scared of Ruby getting hurt. I’m scared I’ll give her—give anyone, I guess—everything I’ve got, and they’ll just end up leaving. I’m a lot, Josh. I’ve got a kid who’s about to be a teenager, for god’s sake. I’ve got you. I’ve got a business. And I’ve got . . . well, I guess I’ve got some major trust issues.”

He nodded. “And a lot of that is my fault.”

She didn’t say anything to that. They both knew it was true.

“And my dad’s,” she said. “And Nicole’s and, hell, I don’t know. Every broken heart I’ve ever heard a sad song about.”

He wrapped his arm around her, and she rested her head against his shoulder.

“Do you love her?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

He squeezed her a little closer. “Do you love her?”

She let the question settle between them for a while. The sun sank lower, turning the golden air to lavender to a deep violet. She knew the answer to Josh’s question, but it was a ridiculous answer. Impossible.