One shoulder rose. “I don’t think we did. Not really. She didn’t see it that way.”

I wanted to ask him what was it about Kristen that made him propose marriage to her if he didn’t think he knew her, but there was no way I could ask that question without it sounding incredibly bitter.

“What about you and that guy you dated?” he asked.

“There isn’t much to tell.” I tucked my hair back as I gazed out the window at the endless concrete of the turnpike. “We met at Shepherd. He asked me out, and I . . .”

“What?” he asked after a moment.

The reason why I’d gone out with Ben and stayed with him was embarrassing to admit, but since it was caring and sharing time, I forced out the truth. “I was just . . . I was just lonely. I wanted to be with someone and he was interested in me.”

Brock was quiet for so long that I had to look over at him. His profile was stoic, made of marble and ice. “Did he treat you well?”

I squirmed. “That’s a weird question to ask.”

“You never brought him home to your parents.”

“That’s not an indication of how he treated me,” I pointed out.

“Did he want to meet your parents?”

I looked away. “Not really.”

“So did he treat you like you deserved?”

Uncomfortable, I folded my arms. “Most of the time it wasn’t bad or good. It was just . . . somewhere in the middle. I don’t regret the relationship. I learned a lot from it.”

“Like what?”

“Like not to ever settle again.”

* * *

It was close to eleven when we pulled up in front of my parents’ house. My stomach was full of knots, but I was relieved to see there weren’t five hundred cars in the circular driveway. At least we wouldn’t have to deal with all my uncles and their wives and their herd of children.

I stared up at the double doors, excited to see my family, but also anxious. They could be . . . overwhelming at times.

Brock killed the engine, and a second later I felt his fingers curling around my chin. He guided my gaze to his. Leaning into me, he closed the distance and kissed me softly. It was a tender and sweet kiss, one that held infinite patience.

“You ready to head in there?”

Realizing he sensed the hesitation, I drew back and stared at him. I wanted to thank him. I wanted to kiss him again.

Rhage meowed pitifully from the back seat.

Laughing, I sat back and unbuckled my seatbelt. “I know who’s ready.”

We climbed out, and before I could grab the carrier, Brock already had it in his hand. Rhage was probably loving that. We’d walked up the driveway, leaving our bags to grab later.