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He stops and turns. “What makes you so sure?
“It’s what I do.” I huff, the center of my chest increasingly aching. “You’ve heard the stories."
“That was a long time ago.”
“Maybe not long enough.”
“John, don’t you think you’re being a bit hard on yourself?”
My chest seizes. “I seem to remember you cutting and running when love came calling.”
His mouth, which has been hard and lacking humor for days now, wobbles. “Love, eh?”
“Shut up.” That was a slipup. Like a slimy bass from the river that wriggles free when I try to haul it into the boat.
“Hey, your word, not mine.” His feet shuffle. “Is that what you’re planning? Cutting and running?”
Planning? I wish there was a plan.
“Because if it is, I suggest you make your move sooner than later. The woman I just saw looks at you like she’s found home.”
I can’t stop staring at the toe of my shoe wedged onto the chair’s cross bar. I am in so deep.
“Meanwhile, you look like you’re plotting to runawayfrom home.”
Do I? Who does this kid think he his? “Who asked you, Walker? Save your psychoanalysis for somebody else.”
His face solidifies to a hardness level I’ve not seen since his undercover days. “Gotcha. Loud and clear. Just trying to help a buddy out.”
I’m a jerk, and no one’s buddy, that’s for sure. Coming off the chair, I rake my hair. “Look, what I’m saying is…” I glance to the open door and lower my voice. “Hollie’s great. Really, really great. But she’s been through a lot. Like, handle-with-care a lot.”
“So?” His brow pinches. “You’ve helped her witha lot. And now, she and the kid have got a new lease on life.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I step one length closer, keeping my volume down. “Do you know where that kid’s dad is?”
He shakes his head.
“The state pen serving multiple consecutive sentences for aggravated rape.”
His eyebrows shoot up as I let my ensuing silence speak for itself. Yeah, that’s what I’m saying—but that’s all I’m saying, which was probably already too much. See? I’m no good. Violating Hollie’s privacy.
I watch Tripp’s mind spin. “That is definitely rough. Like, really rough. I hate hearing it. But how does that rule you out? If anything, it sounds all the more like you’d be a blessing in her life.”
“Hollie needs someone sensitive. Gentle. You know me. I’m not that person.”
“Sobethat person.” He studies me. “You sell yourself short, John. I think if you asked her right now she’d tell you she was grateful you’re in her life.”
In fact, she just did—but what good am I now that Jacob’s troubles are solved, at least the ones I might have been able to help with? “Come on, Walker, youknowme. I bulldozed my wife’s life twenty years ago, and I’m even worse now.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“A leopard doesn’t change its spots. You and I both can testify to that.”
His jaw clenches, as if he feels my words as much as I do.
“Me loving Hollie is irrelevant. I’d make a mess of the life she’s worked hard to build.” Of the healing she’s fought tooth and nail to achieve. I’d destroy it, and I can’t have that on my conscience. “The lady has been through enough.”
Unvarnished truth is my jam. Why should matters of the heart—which apparently I still posses—be any different? “Yes, I want her, but...” I straighten all the way up, “Hollie has issues. I could never marry someone like her.”
