Home > Work > Then Came You (A Bradford Sisters Romance, #0.5)
1 " Every night, I sit in the rocking chair in the nursery when I give Willow her bedtime bottle. Tonight, I burped her halfway through her feeding like always. Then I sat her on my knees facing me and made funny faces. She looked right into my eyes. And she smiled. She’s ten weeks old and she just gave me her very first smile. I wish I’d taken a picture. I’m probably supposed to be documenting everything better for her baby book or whatever. She’s going to have a terrible baby book. But at least she’ll have a father who loves her. Because when she smiled at me tonight, I finally felt it. Love. A rush of love. I was so blown away by it I laughed, which made her smile at me even more. Then I hugged her small body and breathed in the smell of her Johnson’s baby shampoo. I could feel her heartbeat. Up until tonight, I was pretty sure Willow didn’t like me, and I understood why she didn’t. I didn’t blame her for resenting the idiot, bumbling guy who started doing for her all the things her gorgeous, familiar mother had done before. But tonight . . . tonight my little girl smiled at me. She gave her very first smile to me because I’m her person now. I’m her daddy and, in her way, I think she might love me, too. When I laid her against the inside of my elbow to feed her the rest of her bottle, her hand made a fist in the fabric of my shirt. She watched me as she drank down her formula. I’m tired and lonely. Parenting is far more difficult than I understood when I was a son and not yet a father. I miss my freedom and my friends and the life I had before Sylvie told me she was pregnant. I miss who I used to be. But tonight my daughter, a tiny girl in pink pajamas, smiled at me. Because I’m her person. Letter "
― Becky Wade , Then Came You (A Bradford Sisters Romance, #0.5)
2 " KATHLEEN: I think I’m falling for Garner Bradford. ROSE: What! Hang on a minute. Let me pass the baby to Henry so I can concentrate on this conversation. One sec. Okay. I’m in my bedroom with the door closed. You’re falling for Garner Bradford? KATHLEEN: I’ve been trying hard not to and I’ve been doing an okay job of it, but the company held one of its family barbecue picnics this afternoon. I went and he was there with his girls and it melted me. Seeing him with them. ROSE: More details, please. KATHLEEN: I was talking with one of the women from accounting when I spotted him getting into the food line with the girls. I excused myself and hurried over because it looked like he could use an extra hand. He can’t very well hold three plates at once, right? ROSE: Right. KATHLEEN: I ended up filling his daughter Willow’s plate. ROSE: Which one is Willow? KATHLEEN: The older one. She’s four. Nora, the younger one, is two. After I carried Willow’s plate to their table, Garner was sort of honor-bound to invite me to join them. So I sat down, and when I looked across the table, I saw that Garner had a burger exactly like mine. We both chose the bun with sesame seeds. We both put tomatoes and pickles and grilled onions and ketchup and mustard on ours. ROSE: Let me guess. Neither one of your burgers had lettuce. KATHLEEN: Exactly! No lettuce. ROSE: It sounds like fate. KATHLEEN: That’s what I thought. It felt more and more like fate the longer I sat there. Willow is serious and quiet. Nora is sweet and busy. They’re gorgeous little girls, Rose. ROSE: I’m sure they are. KATHLEEN: And Garner was wonderful with them. He used a wet wipe to clean their hands. He cut their hot dogs into tiny pieces. He brought their sippy cups out of his bag. He redid Willow’s ponytail when it started to sag. The girls look at him like he hung the moon. ROSE: And by the time you finished your lettuce-free hamburger, you were looking at him like he hung the moon, too. KATHLEEN: Yes. ROSE: Mm-hmm. KATHLEEN: "
3 " Where are you? I need you to answer. Of all the times for you not to answer, this is the worst. I just kissed Garner. Oh my gosh. Rose! What am I going to do? Today was a long, hard, long—did I already say long?—day. I was working here at my desk and I was incredibly frustrated because I was having to fix a mistake one of the financial analysts made, when I heard a knock. I looked up and Garner was standing just inside my doorway, with his suit jacket over his arm. My heart squeezed because . . . you know why. This thing I have for him. He asked me why I always work so late. I explained about the mistake I was fixing and then told him about all the other things I still have to finish before I can call it a night. He said he thought it was dangerous for me to remain on our floor after hours, to walk to my car alone, to arrive at my apartment alone. He told me he was concerned that I’m being careless with my safety. I stared at him, speechless, because lots of people work late. Almost all of them are men, so the only thing I could figure was that he was basically scolding me for working late because I’m female. Which is completely sexist and infuriating. But hold the phone. It gets worse. “Going home earlier will be better for you in other ways,” he said. “It’ll help you balance things out. Get more sleep. More rest.” And then this is the kicker. He said, “It might be time for you to get a life, Kathleen.” He said it nicely. There was humor in his eyes, there was. But I knew . . . I knew, Rose, that he was serious. That he really does think I need to get a life. And it just . . . it sparked something inside me because here I am working my butt off for Bradford Shipping, spending my time at the office, because I’m trying to save his company. He’s the one leaving to go home and he has the audacity to tell me to get a life! I stood and came around my desk as I told him all of that. Everything I just told you. I didn’t scream it. I spoke it quickly and I think, quietly. But I said it like I meant it. Because I did mean it. I was upset. How dare he! Get a life! From the man who’s not exactly known for making the best life decisions. I found myself standing right in front of him. He raised an eyebrow slightly. That’s it! That’s all he did. He was totally unmoved by my speech. He looked calm. He looked like someone I could never have. Plus, his eyes are ridiculous. My destructive streak surfaced and I stepped forward and I put my palms on his cheeks and I kissed him. Just a press of lips to lips. That’s it. I waited for maybe one whole second, which felt like ten, for him to kiss me back, to put his arms around me. Something! Instead he moved backward. Oh, Rose. It was horrible. His gaze narrowed on me and his chest expanded with his breath a few times, but otherwise he stood there like a statue. And I stood there like a statue. Then he turned and left. I could die. I’ve locked my office door and closed my blinds and I’m sitting on the floor behind my desk. How am I supposed to face him now? I’m sure he thinks I’m insane. Why "
4 " Kathleen kissed me. I know she thinks I’m stuffy. That I didn’t like the kiss. That I was offended by it. I’m going to let her think those things because I wish they were true and because they’ve created a wall between us and I need a wall. What’s true—what she doesn’t know—is that she set off a thunderstorm of need inside me. God, "
5 " I’m not a man who’s free. My birthright and my past decisions have made sure of that. Willow, Nora, Glenna, my mom, and the people at Bradford Shipping are depending on me and so I try hard not to let selfish desires worm their way into my life. But I have come to want one selfish thing, despite all my best efforts. I want Kathleen. It’s been two months since she bribed me with chocolate cake. I think about her all the time. At work. At home. My track record with women is terrible. Loving her would probably doom either her or me. But still, I want her. Note "
6 " As I was leaving work this evening, riding down in the elevator alone and depressed, the doors opened on the floor below mine. And there he was. Garner. He grinned at me and stepped into the elevator. The doors slid closed. “Did I finally stay at work as late as you?” he asked. I mumbled in the affirmative. It’s hard to be witty when happiness is shooting through you like rockets. “Staying as late as you is a first,” he said. “I’m trying to get a life,” I told him. Inside joke. Which I suddenly worried wasn’t very funny. But, thank you Lord, he chuckled and we kept staring at each other. Still smiling. Then the humor began to fade from his face. And then! Then he kissed me. I barely had time to adjust, to kiss him back, before the elevator binged to signal that we’d reached the lobby. We stepped apart quickly and walked side by side through the first floor of Bradford Shipping without glancing at each other once. I mostly looked down because I didn’t want anyone, including him, to see my blush, which felt about as hot as the Arabian Peninsula. I was both thrilled and terrified that he’d find a reason to regret the kiss. When "
7 " May I take you to dinner some night soon? I’m willing to bribe you into going out with me with your favorite dessert, if necessary. —Garner Handwritten "
8 " I want you to know that I love you. What I used to feel for Sylvie was a young man’s love. What I feel for you is an older, and hopefully wiser, man’s love. I acknowledge that it’s a lot, to ask you to date a man with a past like mine. I’ve had a child out of wedlock. I’ve been married before. I’ve been marked by tragedy. I come with two little girls who will look to any future wife of mine to be their mother. I’ll never move to New York. I can’t. I have to stay here because it’s my responsibility to run the company that carries my family name. I’m well aware that you could date someone without as many faults. It would probably be easier on you to date someone who won’t worry about you as much as I will. You’ll have to make sacrifices to be with me, Kathleen. I’m sorry for that. But if you choose to be with me anyway, I promise to love you with everything I have for as long as God lets me. You’re a gift I never expected. You’ve changed my life and made me believe in a future I couldn’t even imagine until I met you. I’ll "
9 " There are times when I’m terrified that Kathleen will leave. However, those times are fewer and fewer. Every day that I wake up beside her leads me to hope just a little bit more that God might give us many, many years together. Kathleen’s strong and persuasive and feisty. Feisty enough, I hope, to stick with me and refuse to give up on us. I’m desperate for the chance to grow old with Kathleen. To raise our daughters together, to celebrate holidays, to renovate Bradfordwood to its former glory, to eat chocolate cake and hot fudge sundaes together, to watch each season fade into the next. Despite the challenges, I really am the luckiest man. I love my wife. I love my girls. And they love me. We’re a family. The "
10 " I’m having a hard time concentrating at work. Why in the world did I give the task force members offices on my floor? It seemed like a good idea at the time . . . to evict the old guard and move in the staff that represented the company’s one hope for the future. I regret it now, though, because I can’t go an hour without seeing Kathleen Burke. I can’t remember when I’ve felt this frustrated, and that’s saying a lot because I have two preschoolers at home. I noticed Kathleen’s attractiveness the day we met. I noticed it the same way that I might notice that a woman’s hair is gray. It was just a fact. It didn’t matter to me or affect me. A month and a half has passed since then. A month and a half of me sitting in the board room during task force meetings, watching Kathleen give presentations on newfound information she feels passionately about. She always feels passionately about the information she presents. A month and a half of looking up from my desk and seeing her slender body pass by my office in tailored skirts and silky shirts. A month and a half of disagreeing with her over new computer software. When she thinks I’m being pig-headed, her nose scrunches and her brown eyes blaze. My mom told me that her family is Irish. It’s obviously true. Kathleen has the fiery will and the red glint in her hair to prove it. She can’t seem to understand that I’m not being pig-headed about new computer software. I’m just being right. A month and a half of running into her in the break room. She tilts her head when she refills her coffee mug, which causes her long hair to slide over her shoulder and upper arm. A month and a half of hearing her laughter from a distance. A month and a half of receiving correspondence from her signed “Respectfully, Kathleen E. Burke.” Why the E? There are no Kathleen R. or B. or K. Burkes who work at Bradford Shipping. The E is pretentious. A month and a half of looking back every evening when I leave and seeing her office light on. Kathleen’s attractiveness is more than a fact to me now. She’s annoyingly pretty, she’s persistent, and she’s impossible to ignore. For more than two years, I’ve been loyal to Robin’s memory. That’s how I want things to continue. That’s how I like it. Willow and Nora are my life. I spend every hour outside of work with them, and I’m exhausted at the end of each day. There’s no room in my schedule or in my emotions for a relationship. I’m even more certain that I’m not meant to be a boyfriend or a husband now than I was when Robin died. So the distraction of Kathleen makes me feel like I’m betraying a commitment I made to myself. Which, in turn, makes me angry. I’ve been asking God to take away this stupid pull I feel toward Kathleen. Or better yet, to give her a new job in another city or state. My "