She hesitated, and Dawson wondered what he was doing here. He should’ve called or texted first. Before he could offer to leave again, she sat down, but she didn’t lean back the way he did. Oh, no. She perched nervously on the very front of the bench, refusing to look at him.
He suddenly didn’t know what to say. He’d thought they’d have some light-hearted conversation about what she’d done that day with her family, and maybe she’d ask him about how things had gone at his brother’s that night.
Something that wasn’t tense silence.
“Do you like pasta?” she asked out of nowhere.
“Yes,” he said simply.
She nodded a couple of times. “I was thinking I’d bring pasta tomorrow for lunch.”
“You’re still going to come?” He and Brandon had plenty of leftover soup, and while Dawson hadn’t anticipated her canceling their date when he’d arrived, nothing had been as he’d expected it to be.
She looked over to him, her eyes wide. “I—yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Maybe because you didn’t invite me inside,” he said, cocking his eyebrows to challenge her. “And you didn’t want me standing in sight of the window. But out here is okay.” He looked across the street, where they sat in plain view of the neighbors on all sides.
With his heart sinking to his stomach, he added, “So it seems to me that you want to hide me from Belle and Judy.”
“No,” Caroline bit out, and oh, he now knew that her bark was so much harsher than her bite.
“Let’s go inside, then. It’s cold out here.”
She shivered even as she said, “I’m fine right here.”
He scoffed, wondering what to do next. His attraction to her slithered through him, teasing him and taunting him in a maddening way. “Okay, well, how was your afternoon? You stopped texting.”
“It was….”
He glanced over to her just as all the things she held tightly sagged away. “Miserable,” she said with a sigh. “Boring. Long.”
Dawson reached over as his own heart softened toward her. He took the spoon from her and tucked it under his leg before sliding his hand around hers and settling his fingers between hers. Ah, yes. This was nice, and the sparks and flames that ignited when his skin touched hers warded off the chill of the night.
“Belle is not in a good place,” she whispered. “We went to lunch, but she disappeared into her room when we got home, and she’d just come out when you rang the doorbell.”
“Mm.”
“Her husband doesn’t want to be married anymore. It’s—well, you know what? It’s really hard to be told you’re not wanted. That the family you’d been building with another person isn’t wanted.”
Dawson moved closer to her by sliding along the bench, and he released her hand so he could lift his arm over her shoulders. “I can’t even imagine.”
“She’s about five weeks out from when Chuck came home and told her. She’s in a lot of turmoil.”
“I bet.”
Caroline fell silent, and Dawson wondered where she was driving him with this backstory of her sister’s. He figured if he waited, she might just come out and say it. When she didn’t, he squeezed her shoulder and brought her closer to his side.
“And? You don’t want to go out with me because of that?”
“It might be very difficult for her,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to tell her.”
Dawson’s heart wailed, but he couldn’t argue with the situation. He had no idea what he’d do if he found himself in a similar spot.
Be patient, he thought, and he groaned again as he got to his feet. “Well, you know where I am and how to get in touch with me,” he said quietly.
“Dawson, wait,” she said as she hurried to stand too. She inched in close to him, then closer still. He could probably count the light freckles across the bridge of her nose then, and he slid his hand along the bottom hem of that pretty sweater to anchor himself so he didn’t fall back or away.
“I’m waiting,” he murmured.