Page 62 of His Wounded Heart

“That’s great. And Chloe… ”

“Yeah?”

“She might mention her dad. I had to tell her he was dead.”

“What?” Chloe sounds floored. “Is that true, or is that something you made up?”

That question hits me hard and I sink down onto my bed. “Chloe, I thought you knew me better than that. I would never lie to my daughter about something like that. Of course, he’s dead. He died recently in a car accident. Bella just asked me on Saturday about her dad, so I had to tell her he was dead.”

“Oh, Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. No wonder you have a headache. Are you okay?”

“I’m just worried about Bella,” I sigh.

“No, I mean you. How do you feel about him dying?”

“I don’t feel much of anything. He’s been dead to me since I left Nashville.”

“But still—”

“I’ve got to go. I really have a lot of work I need to get done. Thanks so much for taking care of Bella for me. You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome.”

By the time I get back out to the living room, Simon has topped off our coffees and taken off his coat. Damn, he looks good in a sweater.

Gah!

I just got done telling him all the reasons why he doesn’t want to get involved with the crazy lady, and here I am drooling over the way the sweater hugs his chest.

See? Certifiable!

“Is everything okay with Chloe?” Simon asks.

“Yeah, just fine. We just needed a little girl-talk. You know how it is.”

“Not really, but I’ll take your word for it. The pizza should be here in forty minutes. I vaguely remember you saying something about your past, your girl, and me? Did I get that right?”

“Cut the bull, Commander. You know perfectly well I said my ugly past.”

“Honey, I was married for seven years. I know when it’s smart not to have a good memory.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Please tell me you had a good memory when it comes to no pineapple and no mushrooms.”

“That, I did remember.”

“Good,” I say as I pick up my cup of coffee and hold it in front of me like some kind of shield. Simon’s eyes gleam. He knows what I’m doing.

“Until the pizza gets here, let’s talk about Luther and Violet. How about that?”

I immediately relax. Talking about them will be easy.

Chapter Fifteen

Now that we’ve graduated to beers, and Mizz Trenda has had three slices of pizza and has just snagged one of the cinnamon twists, it’s time for me to start with the real questions.

“Trenda, I really find it hard to believe that you could have an ugly past. A colorful one, maybe. An ugly one? Absolutely not.”

She leans back against the sofa. We’re now sitting shoulder to shoulder. I’d had to work hard to gain that closeness. Every time I get up from the couch to get a beer or napkins or something else, when I come back I sit just a little bit closer to her. Until we got to this point, her shoulder rubbing against my arm, her thigh pressing against my thigh and her heat warming me. She’s relaxed.