More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“It’s better than ghost hunting,” Benedict said as they walked out of the room. “I don’t hunt ghosts,” Sam protested. “I bear them no ill will at all. I just want to make their acquaintance.” “Ghost social climber, then.” “Much closer.”
Of course not all men were like Alain. The problem was you couldn’t know right away which ones were and which ones weren’t.
For a man who barely seemed to function on an earthly plane, he could certainly be competent when he wanted to be.
“You’re here!” he exclaimed, and immediately kicked himself mentally. Of course she knew she was here.
“Don’t flirt with me, Professor Moore,” she said, frowning at him. He loved when she frowned at him.
No one wanted to stay around for this part. People only wanted the sunshine and the parasols and the charming picnic lunches. No one cared about the flood that came after.
How did he do it? One minute her world was blackmail and anger and skeletons in dark, shadowed corners, and then Sam Moore walked into the room. It was as though he walked in an almost imperceptible beam of light, which rendered the terrifying ordinary, and the ordinary beautiful.
Love isn’t naïve, Alva. It’s hope, and it’s faith, and it can outlast buildings and wars and empires.”
Sam stared at Alva. Then he stared at the little glass bottle. When that didn’t offer any helpful suggestions, he stared at her again.
He saw it and acknowledged it, even with the whisper that told him being in love with a woman like Alva was going to complicate things. There was nothing to be done—he was in love with her, he always would be, and that was that. She was his person. If she was complicated, then he loved her complications, too. She was the other side of his story.
She was happy—he’d made her happy, the woman he was in love with. All he wanted to do … was keep doing that. For the rest of his life.
“Maybe I don’t,” he said. “But I know you. I’m in love with you, damn it. And so I’m going to keep believing you’ll get a happy ending, and maybe if I believe it long enough, you’ll start to, too.”
He was light, and she was bruises and sharp edges and shadows, and people like her didn’t get to have people like him.
You need to trust me, and you don’t yet. Which is perfectly reasonable. So here’s what I’m going to do: I’m not going to get angry at you over things you can’t control, or make you relive past hurts, or make you less than you want to be. Instead I’m going to be your friend. I’m going to support you. I’m going to flirt with you, and I’m going to do my damnedest not to hurt you. And when you trust me, if you decide you’ve changed your mind about the whole courting thing, you can let me know.”
The one with the house, my future, my heart, everything that’s at all important in the world, Sam thought, but settled for a nod.
“I know you don’t want pity,” he said. “So I won’t offer it. But Alva, know this. The world is so much better with your name in it.”
It was a normal winter day in the city, beauty and horror walking arm in arm and yet invisible to each other.
“Alva, three days ago I proclaimed my undying love and devotion to you and asked you to marry me. I simply cannot fathom why you are so constantly surprised by the height of my esteem for you.”
“You never said undying.” “It was implied by the whole marriage thing. Oh, look, here’s a whole book on trains!”
She shook her head, gently, not to throw the thoughts away but simply to settle them.
No one had a right to treat the woman he loved this way, and they had. But he was damned if he was going to sit by and let them continue.
“I mean, you wanted to fight for me. You did fight for me. But you reminded me that I could fight for myself, too.”
