She wasn't just kind and caring. Kendall was real. I didn't see a lot of that, not when I only spent an evening with a woman, most of our conversation superficial and incredibly boring until it was time to fuck.
"I'm just honest." The compliment got to her; I could tell by the color of her cheeks. "I'm curious, what's it like, working with your brothers? Not all siblings can make magic happen-I'm a good example of that-so what's your relationship like with them?"
"We're best friends."
"Now, I'm jealous."
I wiped my mouth, taking a long drink of my juice. "Being the oldest, I've seen them change so much over the years. Sure, there's some friendly competition between us-we're men and athletes, so it's just natural. But we want nothing more than to watch everyone succeed, and we certainly have."
"What are they like?"
I popped a banana into my mouth, the outside caramelized from the sugar, making it taste almost candied. It was delicious, and I searched for another and ate that one too. "Ford's the youngest. He's a single dad to a four-year-old named Everly. She's the coolest kid. Smart, beautiful, sassy, extremely opinionated but endearing at the same time."
"You're smitten with her. I could tell the second you mentioned her."
I knew my lips were smiling. "I see her a lot. I even babysit sometimes."
"Where's her mom?"
I took a deep breath. "That's a complicated story."
She set her fork down and leaned into the edge of the table. "Keep talking about Everly. I like this side of you."
I laughed. "Listen, I'm not even close to being ready for kids, but she's a hell of a lot of fun to have around. When Ford travels for work and his nanny is tied up, she usually stays with me." I thought of our last sleepover and how we had stayed up until eleven, making sundaes, hours past her bedtime. "Uncle D-that's what she calls me, and she crashes in my bed because there are monsters in my guest room."
"Naturally."
"When she wakes up, she has hair like yours, all wild and wavy." I put my hand over my mouth as I chuckled again. "She has me put it into these side ponytails-I don't know what they're called."
"Pigtails?"
"Yeah, that's it." I shook my head as I recalled our last morning together, how the goddamn elastics hadn't matched and she'd thrown a fucking fit. I'd ended up at the store, buying six bags just to make sure I never ran into that problem again. "She loves oranges and eats one every morning for breakfast, but she wants all the pith peeled off. So, before I drop her off at pre-K, we do hair and eat oranges, and I'm almost always late to my first meeting."
"I think I just melted into this booth. Go on."
"I'd give that little girl anything, and she knows she has me wrapped right around her tiny finger." I sliced through a large piece of pancake and brought it up to my lips. "She has a sweet tooth. In fact, she would love these."
"You should bring her here. I'll tag along, being the pancake groupie that I am." While she picked up a blueberry, rolling it between her fingers, I felt her analyzing my expression. "Tell me about Jenner. I met him at the club that night, but we didn't have a lot of time to talk."
"He's fiercely independent. He enjoys being on the road more than in the office and would rather be in an airplane than on land. Real estate law is perfect for him. He can fly to each opening, visiting the hotels and high-rises he scores for his clients."
Her eyes briefly closed while she chewed, a look that told me how much she was enjoying her meal. "So, Jenner is the adventurous one. Always on the go, restless, desperate for new tastes and sounds and sights. Ford is more grounded. As a single dad, he must be sensitive and patient. I would imagine estate planning looks a little like Groundhog Day, client after client practically the same, but it requires him to be creative, and that's what fuels him. Where do you fit in, Dominick?"
"That's a good question."
With her elbows already on the table, she dropped her fork, resting her chin on the peak of her fingers. "Can I take a stab?"
"Why not?"
She appeared to be gathering her thoughts, but I knew better. Kendall's theory was on the tip of her tongue. The pause was to keep me in suspense.
To tease.
Something she had become an expert at.
"I don't think your lack of commitment has anything to do with being hurt or the topic of conversations you heard, growing up. I think you've gone after the wrong kind of women, and I think you've done that intentionally." She blinked, marrying her lips as though there were something on them. "A bachelor lifestyle ensures you don't feel guilty when you work too much or when your friends ask you to go on vacation or when you get up extra early to go to the gym and stay longer than you planned. The right woman would change that, so you seek out one-night stands over substance."
She glanced at her fork and back to me. "You've only ever seen lettuce. Globs of butter that accidentally hang from the corners of lips don't happen because the women don't know you, so they're certainly not going to feel comfortable indulging in front of you."
She moved her hair to the side, the locks still a bit crazy from when I'd pulled them earlier in her bed. "You like to know you can have what's in front of you, that nothing is off-limits. You don't know the terms compromise or sacrifice because you, Mr. Dalton, are used to getting your own way.