The Bromance Book Club (Bromance Book Club, #1)(24)

His heart thudded nervously. “It’s—that’s what I said wh-when—”

“I know, Gavin.” Her arms wrapped around her torso in a pose that managed to look both tough and vulnerable. “I just wish you wouldn’t ruin it by saying it now.”

Ruin it? His heart sputtered. “I am not ready to give up on us.”

“It’s too late.”

“It’s not too late,” he said, channeling Lord Always-Says-the-Right-Thing. “It’s never too late for love.”

Thea snorted. “Are you serious right now?”

Okay, maybe that was a bit much. Thanks a lot, Lord Asshat. Still, it was now or never.

And if this didn’t work, he was going to kill Mack and Del and throw Lord Claptrap into the fireplace. “What if . . . what if we could start over?”

Thea lifted her hands to ward off his words. “Gavin, stop.”

“Let me move home—”

“No.” Thea sidestepped him and was halfway across the living room before he could catch up in steps or words.

“Let me move home,” he repeated. “And if I can’t w-w-win you back, I’ll . . . I’ll let you go. I’ll agree to a divorce.”

Thea turned around, an incredulous squint to her eyes. “This is the twenty-first century. I can get a divorce whether you agree to it or not.”

Right. Of course. Shit. “I know. Wh-what I mean is, I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll pay off the house for you and the girls, give you whatever amount of child support you need. Anything. We don’t even need lawyers.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Your agent would kill you if you got divorced without a lawyer.”

“Why? Are you planning on taking me to the cleaners?”

His attempt at humor was apparently not appreciated, because her lips formed a tight line. “No, but what if you get traded and have to move? Things could get really complicated with custody.”

Custody. The word made him want to puke. “Please, Thea. Just give me a chance.”

“To do what?” she blurted, throwing her hands wide in an exasperated gesture.

“To prove how much I love you.”

Her lips parted again. She stared at him for a moment that lasted forever. “Please stop saying that,” she finally whispered, her voice pained.

“Stop saying what? That I love you?”

Her silent nod hit him like an errant pitch. He stumbled back a step. “Why?”

“I don’t trust those words. Not anymore.”

Gavin fought for air. He’d suffered some tough losses in his life. Life-changing ones. And humiliations that burned to this day. But this . . . this was as close to total destruction as he’d ever known. If ever there was a time for Lord Benedict to tell him what to say, it was now. But the only voice he heard in his head was a woman’s.

Love isn’t enough.

When he’d read those words from Irena, Gavin had grumbled under his breath and nearly closed the book. What kind of romance novel declared love meaningless? Wasn’t the entire point of all romance novels to prove that love conquers all? He had a sinking sensation that he was about to find out in real life whether that was true. He just hoped Lord Lovelorn would have a better idea on how to prove his wife wrong than Gavin did for his.

“It’s late,” Thea said quietly, as if softening her tone could possibly soften the blow. “You should go home.”

“I am home. You and the girls are my home.”

Thea sucked in a tiny breath of air. It was barely perceptible but just enough to let on that his words—his pitiful honesty—had made a mark. It was time to come out swinging.

“You know what? I’m disappointed in you. Because the old you would have jumped all over a crazy proposition like this.”

He held his breath as she held his gaze. Her jaw jutted sideways, and her eyebrows pulled together. Not in anger. No. She was considering it. He could tell by the glint of daring in her eyes.

It was that glint, more than anything else, that made him risk everything with his next words. “Come on, Thea,” he challenged. “What do you have to lose?”

Thea responded by turning away and walking woodenly to the French doors to the backyard. She stared silently into the darkness outside, her arms once again wrapped tightly around her torso. He’d give anything to see inside her mind, to hear whatever argument she was having with herself. The click of the grandfather clock in the hallway by the stairs ticked off the seconds in excruciating slowness.

The suspense finally got the best of him. “Thea—”

She turned stiffly. “I have some conditions.”

Her words hung in the air for a long, stunned instant before they registered in Gavin’s brain. Did she mean—? Was she agreeing to—?

He spoke slowly, afraid that if he reacted too strongly, she’d say never mind. “Wh-what kind of conditions?”

“This”—she waved her hand in the air, searching for the right word—“proposition can’t last forever. We’ll need a deadline of some kind.”

“Spring training,” he said. It was perfect. If he failed, he’d at least have something to distract him after he left. He wasn’t going to fail, though. Spring training was nearly three months away. More than enough time.