Page 53 of Hearts at War

“My ex-wife.”

“You were married?” She huffed, lowering her gaze for a moment. “Then again, that shouldn’t shock me.”

“Why not?” I grinned. “Because I’m obviously husband material?”

“No. Because you’re old.”

I smirked.

“Because you’re older,” she corrected with a ghost of a smile.

“Only...” I studied her. “Well, I know you’re young.”

“I’m not young!”

I cracked up. “Damn, and here I thought all women wanted to look young and fresh.”

“When you say it, you make it sound like I’m too young.”

“If I thought you were too young for me,” I said in a slow drawl, “I wouldn’t have offered for you to get in my bed.”

That blush returned. Another silent spell followed.

Dammit. I was supposed to be talking about myself, getting to lower her guard. Not remind her about the night I wished we could repeat. Nothing had happened—until the morning kissing. But I’d slept so damn well with her next to me.

“I’m thirty-six,” I said. “So I’m...twelve years older than you?”

“I’m twenty-four,” she mumbled.

“Hey. I am good at math after all.”

She sighed, making me think she fought another small smile.

Damn, was she hard to crack.

“Anyway. I was married to Veronica for several years. We divorced three years ago.”

She didn’t speak for another long moment, perhaps weighing what to say.

I continued anyway. I bet she didn’t want to ask a follow-up question so she wouldn’t look like she was interested.

“She was a real fancy lady, raised to be a spoiled little brat. A daddy’s girl, and also the rancher’s daughter.”

“You slept with your boss’s daughter?”

I nodded. “Well, no. She um, drugged me at a party, implicated that I’d taken advantage of her, and then that somehow turned into her thinking we were meant to be.”

Her eyes opened wide. “Whoa.”

“Yeah. Whoa is right. She was a big city sort of girl. High fashion. Lots of shopping. At the salon every other day. You get the picture. High maintenance. And never the kind of woman who could truly be content with someone like me.”

Heather arched her brows.

“I wasn’t some poor idiot. When my parents died, they left me a fair share of money. I always assumed that was why she was interested in me in the first place, thinking I could ‘afford’ her and give her the things she was used to and always wanted.”

“Hmm.”

I cleared my throat, surprised that my tone wasn’t an angry one yet. Normally, just thinking about Veronica made me so mad I’d shout and curse. But I didn’t, not here with Heather.