I lick my lips. “Okay…” Because what else am I going to say to that?
“But you can’t handle a relationship because Emmett, Mattie, and Harry come first right now.”
“Yes…” I hope he can hear the disappointment in my voice, because I sure can. “It’s a little more complicated than that, but in a nutshell, yes.”
He nods. “I agree they come first. They’re just kids, and they’re your family...”
The Roman candles turn into beeswax candles and start to melt. Everything inside me—my heart, my resolve, my defenses—threaten to melt too. Why does he have to be so awesome? It would be so much easier if he were just some hot jerk.
But I can’t even imagine him as a jerk. He’s wonderful. So wonderful, he should be taken already. Married, for Christ’s sake. And, wow, it’s really easy to imagine Luc Valencia married. So easy, I immediately want to punch his imaginary wife in the boob. Ireallydon’t like the idea of Luc being married.
“And I can’t help but— Why are you breathing like that? You all right?”
I’m panting. I stop and try breathing normally. “Um…” I can’t tell him I’m psyching myself up to tit-punch his imaginary wife. That’s a little crazy. Even for me. “Sorry… I’m listening.”
His eyes run over me for a second, maybe making sure I’m not about to pass out or succumb to an asthma attack. “What I’m saying is I’m okay with that. More than okay.”
“That’s great, but—”
He squeezes my hand. “Let me see you. We both want to. We both agree the kids come first. And if the last few days have shown me anything, it’s that there’s room.” He smiles and those blasted dimples come out.
“Room?” I don’t understand what he’s saying, but it might be the dimples.
“Room in your life for me.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
MILLIE
Oh,shit.
I just fell in love with Luc Valencia.
The truth of it hits me right between the eyes. More like a racquetball than a bullet. As though I should have seen it coming. It leaves me with the absurd urge to laugh.
The beginnings of a laugh escape me, and then I bite my bottom lip, trapping the whole of it—all of this inconvenient, irresponsible, sweeter-than-life love—before it can wriggle free. I can’t let this out.
If things were different, yes. Of course. I’d set it free. I’d give it to him with both hands. No regrets.
Room for him in my life? If things were different, I’d assign him his own zip code.
But things aren’t different. So this feeling must stay behind the lines, within my skin, inside my lips, deep down in my chest, folded into a box that beats the rhythm of my heart.
“Why do you look so terrified?”
I swallow. “It’s complicated.”
“Try me.”
I sigh, but I don’t try to pull away. I want to keep touching him. Keep looking at him. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
The left side of his mouth curls up in amusement. “Like I said, try me.”
I put my thumbnail between my teeth and chomp thoughtfully. Saying it out loud just sounds so stupid.
Chomp. Chomp.“What if I told you I was cursed?”
Luc sniffs, and his eyes narrow just a little. “What do you mean? Who cursed you?”
