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It felt nice, the simple connection of her hand in his larger, stronger one. Between work, Mary Anne’s illness, and helping when Kayla was a newborn, Hannah hadn’t spent much time out of the house in the past year or so. Finding a boyfriend hadn’t been on her radar for even longer as she’d been focusing on her degree and wasn’t one to put herself out there anyway.
Boyfriend?
Was that how she saw him? As boyfriend material?
She risked a peek at him. He’d shut his eyes and tilted his face up toward the sun. Summers in New England never heated to overly stifling. The temperature rose just enough for her to be comfortable in a sundress. Like her, JP seemed to enjoy the warmth of the sun on his skin.
He seemed more relaxed than he had the few times she’d met him previously. Relaxation looked good on him. Heck, anything looked good on him. His tattooed skin had a deep golden tan that complemented his toned muscles. Stubble dotted his jaw. Not enough to be considered scruff, but he’d obviously skipped the shave that morning.
She liked him like that. A little rough around the edges and wild, as if he were unable to be tamed. However, that description seemed to hit his internal conflict right on the head. There he was, free and uninhibited, only to be wrangled in and weighed down by the unexpected task of raising a child.
As a single father, no less.
“She regretted it,” he said, startling her out of her thoughts.
By the time she blinked and returned to the conversation, he’d opened his eyes and focused on her.
“I’m sorry?”
“Mary Anne. Kayla’s mom. She left me a long letter where she apologized profusely and told me how much she regretted not telling me when she found out she was pregnant.”
Yes. She had. Her biggest regret in life. The words were on the top of Hannah’s tongue, but she bit them off. This wasn’t the time to confess her own sins. Not when he finally seemed to be finding some peace.
“But she didn’t regret the night we met. The night that led to Kayla. She said Kayla was the best thing she’d ever done.”
Hannah’s eyes began to water. She swallowed a hard lump and willed herself not to cry.
“I thought she was crazy at first. How could she not regret getting pregnant? We’d created a little person who was going to be raised without a mother and with a shitty father. How fucking selfish was that?”
Even though a small part of her agreed with JP’s assessment of her sister, hearing it hurt. He’d never known the real Mary Anne. The version he’d met so briefly was in crisis mode. Panicked and dealing with the very horrifying reality of her own mortality. He’d have liked the true version of her sister. They had a similar zest for life and a fun personality. Messed up as it was, she wished she could talk to him about Mary Anne. To share stories about her personality and give him insight into his daughter’s mother.
“But I think I’m starting to understand it. Kayla smiled at me today, and something happened in here.” He rubbed a hand over the left side of his chest. “At the end of her letter, she asked me not to let my anger at her color my feelings for Kayla.”
Oh, the heartache…
She pressed her lips together, unable to form a response without sobbing.
He stared at her as though trying to see into her soul. She felt sliced open, laid bare, and vulnerable before him.
“You ever done something like that? Something you knew was indefensible, but you did it anyway?”
“Once.” She was doing it right then. God, he’d been screwed over by her family in so many unforgivable ways.
“Hmm,” he said. “Me too. Were you in your right mind when you did it?”
And the hits kept coming. For someone who didn’t want to get deep, he sure knew how to twist the knife in just the right spot without even knowing it. “I’m not sure,” she answered. “I think so. But I didn’t realize the magnitude of my decisions or actions until it was too late.”
Until she’d developed an enormous crush on the man she’d deceived. The one man she could never have and shouldn’t want. The one who’d impregnated her sister. The one her parents would never forgive her for befriending.
He sighed, then rolled his shoulders. “I should get you back. I promised Mickie I’d be home by two. She has something going on in a bit.”
Disappointment had her wanting to cry for an entirely different reason. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”
Without releasing her, he hopped down from the table then helped her do the same. Hand in hand, they strolled toward his car at a lazy pace and without talking. It shouldn’t have been as comfortable as it was. As though they’d done it a million times before and had an easy vibe between them.
