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No, the only person she had to worry about stepping over the line was herself. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him to make all the bad, all the dark, all the evil go away.
She wanted to lose herself in him and forget everything—and everyone who was hurt because she’d failed to face up to her father’s shortcomings.
But Daniel deserved someone better, someone who was able to see the difference between good and bad. Someone brave enough to right all the wrongs, instead of running away.
“Can I do anything to help?” she asked.
“How about cutting up some veggies to grill? I’ve got red peppers and asparagus.”
Thank goodness his outdoor kitchen was covered. The meal he cooked was amazing. Granted, she’d been living on cereal, microwaved soup, baked beans, hot dogs, and scrambled eggs for months. But even if she’d been eating at five-star restaurants every night, Daniel’s food would have been delicious, because he’d cooked it and she was eating with him.
They sat on the floor on thick cushions, leaning against big beanbags. A fire blazed in the stove insert, and he’d set out lanterns to ward off the dark until the electricity came back on. The puppies lay sleeping in their box, so much more comfortable than they’d been in her cold, wet cabin.
She felt exactly the same way—warm, content, and sated. Even unfinished, this house was more a home than anything she’d ever lived in. It was so Daniel—big, open, meant for family to come rambling through.
“Where’d you learn to cook like this?” she asked, licking her lips.
“I’m a bachelor,” he said with a laugh, though it seemed a tad hoarse as he watched her mouth. “We all know how to barbecue.”
“But don’t you normally have loads of household staff to do that stuff for you?” There was no point pretending he wasn’t a billionaire.
“I have a cook on standby when I don’t feel like doing it myself and someone to clean house, but I’m just one person. I don’t need a lot.” Then he smiled cheekily. “And my mom insisted I learn how to barbecue because my dad always burns the meat.”
“I’ve said this before, but your family sounds wonderful.” She was determined to be happy for him without feeling sorry for herself.
“Yeah,” he said, though a little frown settled between his eyebrows. With a small shake of his head, he continued, “They’re great. You and my sister, Lyssa, would really like each other. She’s in Chicago where my parents live. Where we all grew up.”
Tasha wanted to know everything about him, even though it was dangerous territory given that the more she knew, the more she liked.
“How did you go from Chicago to all this?” She gestured to his mansion-in-progress.
“I went into contracting right out of high school. College never felt like a great fit for me, and I like to work with my hands. That’s why I enjoy building this place. I missed creating something with my own hands. I missed having calluses.” Setting his plate on the floor beside him, he held out his palms. “It took a while, but I’ve got them again.”
She remembered his deliciously callused touch from when he’d rescued her, and now she felt the urge to kiss each and every mark on his hands. “What happened next?” Her voice sounded as hoarse as his when he’d laughed a few minutes ago.
“I came up with some new tools, got some patents.” He shrugged as though it were a feat anyone might have accomplished. “The money gave me a grub stake. And I moved on from there.”
She marveled—who wouldn’t? “Your parents must be very proud.”
“They’re proud of all of us.”
He was modest, but she could see how much it meant to him to make his mother and father proud. “You did it for them, didn’t you? I get that you wanted to be a success, but all your money, everything you’ve built, it was so that you could give them everything they didn’t have when you were a kid, wasn’t it?”
His eyes held hers for a long moment, as though he was stunned by her insight. “Yes, it was. It is. I’ll never be able to do enough for them. All the Mavericks feel the same way—we wish we could buy them a bigger house, better cars, send them on fancy cruise ships and private jets, give them shopping sprees at the most expensive stores.” He shook his head. “But they don’t want any of that. All they want is time to spend with us and a house that’s big enough to put everyone up for the holidays.”
All the things his parents didn’t want were exactly the things her father had lied, cheated, and stolen to obtain. And instead of being showered with unconditional love as Daniel had been, Tasha and her brother had merely been pawns in her father’s cons. She remembered clearly how he’d trotted them out at business dinners and parties as if to say, Now that you can see what a great dad I am, you know I must be trustworthy.
“Tasha? Are you okay?”
She came back to the concern in Daniel’s handsome face, the warmth in his deep-brown eyes. “I was just thinking about my family.” The words came before she could stop them.
“Did you used to spend a lot of time with them?”
His question was gentle, but far too probing. “We worked together.” She shrugged, trying to bury the topic in nonchalance. “But that’s all in the past now. And we were talking about you. How did you come by your carpentry skills in the first place?”
They were both well aware that she was pivoting away from talking about herself. The only question was whether Daniel would let her get away with turning the spotlight back on him.
“When we were growing up,” he finally said, “nothing ever got fixed in our tenement unless we did it ourselves. So Dad learned how to mend leaky faucets and running toilets and change the thermostat in the oven and put in new floorboards and Sheetrock.”
