Or—
“My dad was a deadbeat,” I blurt.
He stops, brows shooting up. “I’m sorry?”
“My dad was a deadbeat,” I say again. “He left my mom when she got pregnant with me and disappeared for years.” I sigh. “It probably would have been easier if he’d stayed away. But he came back, lived with us for a bit and then would lose interest and disappear again. He did that so many times over the years I lost count. So many times that eventually I lost faith in promises from men.” I close my eyes, exhale again. “Then came Jeff. I met him in culinary school. He barreled his way through my walls and made himself at home in my heart…and then he left too.”
“Harp,” he murmurs.
“Then you and I had our night together and I felt something again,” I say, staring out at the horizon because I can’t look at him as I continue talking. “I felt something big, something that made me hope. It was like…” Sighing, I shake my head. “It was like it wasn’t just one night, but rather the rest of my life. Then I woke up and you were gone?—”
He curses.
“It’s not your fault,” I begin.
“The hell it’s not.”
He moves in front of me, hands settling on my arms as he crouches a little to meet my eyes.
“I left that morning because I felt the same thing.”
Twenty-Eight
Leo
She shivers, and I know we can’t keep having this conversation out here.
“Come on,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and drawing her to my car.
She doesn’t fight me, and it takes only a couple of minutes to get her out of the cool morning air and buckled into the passenger’s seat.
I round the hood, drop down into the driver’s side, and make short work of pulling out of the stall.
Maybe I should take her home.
Instead, my need to care for her has me driving to the bakery near her shop.
She doesn’t speak as I drive, just stares out the window, as though lost deep in her thoughts.
I can’t lie.
I’m heavy in my own.
Because what she shared broke my heart.
And gave me so much fucking clarity.
Which is why I need to level with her.
“Come on, baby,” I murmur after I’ve parked, gone around and opened her door.
She shakes herself, reaches down and unbuckles her belt. “What are we doing here?”
“Breakfast,” I say. “Then I’m going to help you with whatever work you need to do. Then I’m going to put you to bed.”
Her eyes flash to mine, pink on her cheeks.
And Christ, my dick is a needy fuck—needy for her anyway.
