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It occurred to Dean he knew Pip better than he knew her mother because of that. Pip called him Coach Dee, never quite able to get the “n” on his name.

Vivian took in a long, slow, deep breath, then gave him a rueful grin. “Can I apologize again?”

He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

She chuckled. “Okay, then, I’ll just say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not making me feel broken.”

“You’re not broken.”

Vivian clearly didn’t agree with him, but the stress of the day, combined with the wine and the sex, had finally caught up to her. She tried to hide her yawn but failed.

“Lay back down, Viv. Our alarms are going to go off way too early.”

The airport had rebooked them both on the same flight, and if the weather cooperated, it was scheduled to take off at seven-thirty a.m. Which meant…

He glanced at the clock, then glared at it when he saw it was almost one a.m. They’d be lucky to grab four hours of sleep at this point.

Vivian didn’t need to be told twice. She slid back down on the bed, tugging the duvet over her. He turned off the bedside lamp, then followed suit, reclaiming his spot next to her.

The weight that had been pressing down on his chest since he emerged from the bathroom and found her crying lifted when she twisted toward him, wrapping her arm around his waist, her head resting on his chest.

He embraced her, loving the feeling of her in his arms. Snuggling after sex was as rare for him as kissing during, yet with Vivian, it felt natural and right.

Her breathing evened out, sleep claiming her quickly.

Dean, however, remained awake, staring into the darkness, listening to the rain, and feeling the steady warmth of Vivian’s breath tickling his chest.

He’d spent most of his adult life avoiding complications, keeping his life simple, prioritizing hockey, making everything else take a back seat to the sport he loved.

His relationships—if he could call them that—with women had always been casual and temporary with no emotions engaged.

Nothing about Vivian felt temporary.

She had offered him her body, something she’d only given to one other man. Then she’d trusted him enough to fall apart, letting him see pieces of herself she probably hid from everyone else.

It was the most intimate thing anyone had ever given him, and somewhere between the restaurant, the sharing of stories, and holding her while she cried over the husband she would never stop loving, Dean realized he was in trouble.

Real trouble.

This woman could steal his heart without even trying. But the real issue wasn’t whether or not he’d fall.

It was whether or not he should.

He wasn’t a good bet. Dean knew exactly what it looked like when someone counted on him. He’d mailed child support checks and gifts to McKenna rather than showing up. He’d left Ellie to raise their daughter on her own. He’d connected with McKenna far too late, losing years that he would never get back.

Vivian deserved someone steady, and Pip deserved a good father, a stand-up man who would never let her down.

A man like Phil.

Dean wasn’t so sure that was him. So, he kissed the top of Vivian’s head, holding her a little tighter, aware that tonight was all they could have.

Chapter Four

Vivian told herself she didn’t regret Boston. Regret implied she’d made a mistake, and she was sure—all the way to her bones—that she hadn’t.