A Better Man

Unguarded Emotions

River's POV

 I had put spaghetti sauce in my crock pot last night to cook slowly. That's how I've always made it, making the sauce seep into the meatballs. Just how my mama taught me. Trying not to drool I set to work cutting up slices of bread.

I turn to see Brandon staring at me. Meeting his eyes, I raise a brow. "Don't get lazy on me, hand me the pasta noodles from the pantry." I point him in the right direction and, grumbling something about 'bossy women in his life', he set to do as was bid.

Humming and applying butter and garlic salt, I place the slices of bread on the baking sheet. An arm slides over my right shoulder to place the box of noodles on the stove. Looking up my nose brushes his. I didn't realize he was that close. He smelled so good. Like a musky aftershave.

His eyes, I realize, aren't gray but a pale blue. Coughing he backs up and for a second I wish he hadn't. That same feeling of loneliness washes over me. Making me wonder when was the last time I'd been touched. When was the last time I'd stood in this kitchen with a man making dinner. Never with the exception of my father. Bryan had only ever wanted to either be out with his buddies or on the computer doing more work when he was home. He would come down eat dinner at a silent table then be back upstairs ignoring my existence. That is when it suited him not to. I pull a pot from the cabinet a little rougher than i meant and a strainer almost hit my chest. i grab it luckily and replace it where it belongs.

"Sit down." I'm pulled out of my musings as hands gently moved me away from the stove. I look at him, questioning his reason. "Can you cook?" Smiling slightly at his stoic expression. Always so serious. The scar from up this close is faded and pink and i itch to run my fingers along the jagged edge under his jaw.

"I think I can boil water and put bread in the oven." He turns toward the over depositing th noodles into water. I study his broad shoulders for a moment.

"Can I ask you something?" I pull out two wine glasses, pouring white muscodine wine into each. Its a southern thing. "Which branch did you serve?" He tenses, his movements pausing on stirring the noodles. "How did you know? Granny?" I stand beside him placing his glass next to his elbow on the counter. "I actually could tell. Your haircut was a dead give away of a cop or military. I just didn't know which it was." Brandon looks at me obviously impressed. I smile, taking a sip of my wine. "Sooo?" He smiles slightly shaking his head. "Marine Corps."

"They have the sexiest uniforms." I say with wiggling eyebrows for him. God, just the thought of him wearing it had me wet. Brandon laughs, making me realize its the first time I've heard it. Sure he smiled, but it was empty. This? It was gloriously carefree, making my pulse quicken.

"What is it about that uniform?"

"I haven't a clue. I think maybe it was designed by women for women." Laughing we look at each other. That same crackling electricity flowed between us. His eyes are shiny and mischievous and i can't help but lean toward him just a little. As always he breaks contact first. "I think its done." He mumbles.

I move to relieve him, fixing both our plates then lead him outside. Once we are sat on the back deck, we settle into a comfortable silence. Just eating and being with each other, listening to and crickets chirp.

"Can I ask you a question?" I look at him so quickly, I thought my neck would snap. "Sure!" I croak out, almost choking on my mouthful of spaghetti. He's sitting so quietly for a moment I thought I may have imagined him speaking at all.

"Where is your husband?" My eyebrows find their way somewhere in my hairline. I sigh, fiddling with my fork."Well, to be frank, I haven't a clue. He signed the divorce papers and left town. I haven't seen him in a year." Brandon nods. Then after a moment looks at me.

"I'm sorry, River." I smile, shaking my head. "No, you're not."

"You're right. I'm not." He agrees smiling my way. My heart stutters a little, making a blush bloom up my neck. I clear my throat as I continue to eat. I wonder if he would be mad if I asked what I've been thinking about for a while. "Brandon?" I begin tentatively. He looks sideways at me. "Can I ask how you got your scar on your face?" I cock my head to one side leaning forward trying to catch his eyes.

"Why, does it disgust you?" He growls out bitterly. I'm taken aback by his hostility and immediately my hackles are raised.

"You know you must have been very vain before you got that scar. I on the other hand couldn't give a shit less about it. I only asked because I care." With that I wheel around taking my plate to the kitchen.

When I'm pissed I tend to clean. So that's what I did. Slamming food into Tupperware, and into the fridge. Then scrubbing furiously at the counter. By the time I went to throw my plate into the sink a large hand had gently stilled my movements.

Brandon gently took my plate, dispersing it into the sink quietly, and turned me toward him. He had a good foot over my five foot six frame. So he literally towered over me. My breathe hitches at our close proximity. "I feel like I'm constantly apologizing for something, River." He said my name so softly. Almost like a prayer. I feel my anger disperse and fade.

"Then why say things like that. Why stay friends with me, when you obviously feel like I'm judging you. I'm not like that Brandon." I look away, then back at his face. "I'm not some stupid female to get caught up over looks and it pisses me off that you think that of me."

He just stares at me. I wish I could tell what he's thinking. Again he looks away, breaking eye contact. "I think I should go. Loretta just pulled in." Brandon walks into the hall next to the front door and stops. I had followed him and too paused looking up at him curiously. 

"I don't think badly of you in any capacity, River. I'm not sure I ever could. It's how I view myself. Thank you for dinner." He opens the door, his heavy feet walking down my steps. Loretta waves at him getting no response as he gets in his truck and drives away. She frowns in obvious disapproval at his rudeness and lets the kids out of her car. They dash forward immediately engulfing me in a hug. I shew them inside playfully and tell them to brush their teeth. Loretta walks up to me glancing at my red wrist. "I'll talk to you about it at work tomorrow, Loretta. Thank you for treating the kids to ice cream." She hugs me warmly and kisses my cheek. " It's no problem dear, I'll see you tomorrow. You want me to come over in the morning around eight?" I smile gratefully. "That sounds wonderful."