He nodded.“There aren’t a lot of ways to leave that life unless you’re in a pine box.”
“But you managed it?”
“Barely,” he said quietly.
I didn’t think I could handle hearing what that meant.I suspected it had entailed a great deal of pain.
“I’m not trying to bring trouble into your life, Melissa.”He seemed suddenly uncomfortable.“I should go.”
“No!”I spoke hastily, sharply, and it startled him.“No,” I said gentler.“Stay.”I motioned to the bowl of pasta salad.“Have dinner with me.”
He hesitated.“You’re sure?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly.“I’m not going to hold a mistake against you after you’ve paid your debt to society.”I made sure to hold his gaze, demanding his full attention as I added, “But I’m not in the business of giving second chances to men, not anymore.”
“Understood,” he accepted without argument.
With that awkwardness out of the way, we sat side by side at my kitchen counter and shared pasta and iced tea.Conversation flowed easily which, frankly, surprised me because we could not have been two more different people.We both had family here in Galveston.
“I grew up mostly in Pasadena,” he said, pushing away his empty bowl.“We moved to Texas City for a little while.Dad followed work from one refinery to another during the booms and busts.”
“I was here in Galveston until I left for college.”I gathered up our empty bowls and forks.
“Where’d you go to school?”
“I did my bachelor‘s in Austin at UT and my master’s at UNC.”
“North Carolina?”he asked, surprised.“What took you all that way?”
“A man,” I replied bitterly.“My ex-husband.”
He grunted, and I agreed with the unimpressed sound.
“We met at UT.Perfect guy.All American.My dad loved him.”I remembered Nataly’s constant stink face whenever she was around Cade.“My cousin didn’t.Looking back, I should have listened to her.She’s a damn good judge of character.”
“That bad?”
“He was the worst.Total narcissist,” I said, “and that’s coming from our marriage counselor and my own therapist.Makes sense why he ended up going into surgery.He thinks he’s a god, but he’s literally a demon.Like actually Satan.”
Shane snorted.“Jesus.”
“He needed Jesus.”I put the bowls and silverware in the dishwasher.“You want a popsicle?They’re homemade.Watermelon and lime.”
He seemed impressed.“I’d love one.”
I retrieved two from the freezer and carefully ran the silicone molds under a little warm water to loosen them.Carefully, I tugged them free and handed one over to him.Playfully, I tapped our popsicles together.“Cheers.”
He smiled and sent a new swarm of butterflies through my belly and into my chest.I returned to the stool next to him and enjoyed my popsicle for a few seconds before finally working up the courage to ask, “Are you married?”
He made a shocked sound and quickly swallowed his mouthful of frozen treat.“No.Never.”He shook his head.“No girlfriend right now.”
“Kids?”
“Not yet.”He eyed me in a way that made me squeeze my knees together.“You?”
“Not yet,” I repeated, silently wondering what he would say if I told him about my almost desperate desire to be a mother.
“You’d be a good mom.”
