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“Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day.”

He cut into his steak and ate, arms on the table, his eyes on me most of the time, and when they weren’t, they were on his food.

He never made small talk. He never filled the silence with insincerity. Situations that were uncomfortable to regular people didn’t make him uncomfortable at all. And he could say so much with just his expression that he didn’t need his words much. I loved all of that. When I thought about the dates I’d had in the past, all the questions, getting to know each other, what do you for a living…tedious.

It was never tedious with him.

“You like your steak?”

He nodded and grunted at the same time.

I smiled as I took another bite of my chocolate chip pancakes, which were coated in syrup and whipped cream, a lot more delicious than his piece of meat.

He always inhaled his food the second he got it, so he was done much quicker. He’d ordered a bottle of wine, so he drank that as he watched me take my time with my potatoes and omelet.

“How do you think they’re doing?”

“I’m sure Claire has introduced him to all her favorite ponies and invited her bear to join them for dinner.”

I chuckled because that was probably exactly what had happened. “She’s done that to you?”

“I’ve attended many tea parties for her guests.”

“That’s cute.” He was impossible to place in a setting like that, but I could picture it because I’d witnessed firsthand what kind of father he was. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his daughter. “What was she like as a baby?”

“Easy but codependent.”

“Meaning?”

“If I wasn’t in the room, a tantrum would ensue.”

“So how did you juggle work and childcare?”

“I didn’t.” He sat forward slightly, his bulging arms on display for me to admire. “Took a year off work.”

“Beatrice wasn’t involved?”

“Barely. Any time she’d try, Claire would sob and sob…”

“Because she wanted you.” My heart melted into a puddle on the floor, picturing this gorgeous man being everything to that little girl.

His blue eyes held my gaze.

“Being a single father, that must have been hard for you.”

After a long stare, he gave a shake of his head. “No.”

“You went from bachelorhood and the criminal underworld to full-time father…that had to be rough.”

“No.” He didn’t change his answer. He didn’t change his attitude either. “They say mothers have maternal instincts that just kick in when they have their children. Same applies to fathers. She was born—and I just knew what to do. Having her was a huge disruption in my life, and while that was a challenge, it didn’t bother me either. The rewards of parenthood far outweigh the sacrifices.”

“Would you want more children someday?” I cut into the pancakes with the side of my fork then spun it in the pool of syrup. I didn’t realize the implications of the question until it was already asked, and now I had to ride it out. I kept my gaze down for a while so I wouldn’t have to see his reaction, but when the silence lingered for too long, I forced myself to look up.

“No.”

My fingers kept spinning the fork even though I had plenty of syrup.

“Just me, no. But with you, yes.”

My hold on the utensil slipped—and it clanked against the plate when it fell.

“If that’s what you’re really asking.”

“Actually, I wasn’t…” I picked up the fork again, but now I’d lost my appetite. “I was just…curious.”

He watched me for a while, his blue eyes like microscopes. “Do you want to have children?”

“I always have. But now…I’m not so sure.”

His eyes shifted back and forth.

“I love Claire like my own. So, I guess I don’t really feel the need like I used to.”

I’d said a lot of incredible things that night, but not once did he snap or distance himself. He took everything I said like a man—head on. It was hard to remember his coldness, even though it wasn’t so long ago. Now he let me in, when he’d done everything he could to block me out.

“Are you still using me?”

The room went silent, and the air suddenly felt too thick to enter my lungs. My eyes stopped in place, like his gaze was a searchlight that made me freeze.

When he didn’t get an answer, he asked a different question. “If Forneus were dead, would you still be here? That’s what I’m asking.”

I gave a nod. “As long as you still wanted me here…”

He studied my face a moment longer. “I would.”

I drew a deep breath, seeing the sincerity in his beautiful eyes.

“And whether you want to have children or you don’t makes no difference to me.”

I suddenly had a flashback. Backstage at the theater, I’d just danced my feet bloody, and he came walking through, holding up a picture to every person he encountered. His crystal-blue eyes met mine, desperate but calm, and I never forgot that look. I’d had no idea what would happen after that meeting, and I never expected to be sitting there with him now, talking about such things. And I certainly didn’t expect this man to become my everything. My man. My home. My family. “I thought you weren’t looking for that kind of relationship.”

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