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Seeing her pick such an asshole had disappointed him to his core. And the knowledge that Roxie would choose to involve herself with a married man had been horrific. It had shattered his impression of the woman he’d thought he’d known, the woman he’d held up on a pedestal. The Roxie he’d grown up with, the one he’d cared about his whole damn life, wouldn’t dothat.
But Paul had told him otherwise. And the news had hurt him in a way he’d never imagined, breaking something delicate inside his soul.
He’d been attracted to Roxie since, well... forever, but the timing had never seemed right, and he’d never been sure how she felt about him. And frankly, the thought of messing up their friendship had terrified him. Still, he’d always dreamed that one day, things would work out between them.
He hadn’t truly grasped how much he’d wanted that relationship with Roxie until all potential for it had been wiped away. Because he could never be with someone who knowingly destroyed families.
After Joe had learned about her breakup with Paul, he’d forced himself to stay mad. He’d constantly reminded himself what kind of person she really was. Again and again, he’d cut himself deep with thoughts of her betrayal. It had felt so damn personal.
He’d been raised by a single father from an early age. His mother had flitted in and out of their lives, jumping back and forth between his dad and other random men. As a child, it had messed with his head. Every time she’d returned, she’d promised thatthistime was going to be different, thatthistime she was staying for good. Then, without fail, she’d meet someone else and leave, often going radio silent and disappearing for months.
It was safe to say he’d been a confused and angry child.
To this day, Joe wasn’t sure what exactly had happened with his parents—hell, he wasn’t sure hewantedto know. But he remembered the evening his dad had finally put his foot down and demanded that his mother choose: stay or leave.
She’d left.
Roxie had been his best friend through all of it. Sheknewhis history, knew how important trust was to him. And that’s why her choosing to be with Paul had absolutely gutted him.
“Answer me, Joe. Why?”
“Because I’m a goddamn coward, Rox.Because it was easier to believe him.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, then clasped them together atop his head. “I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself because I didn’t want to hear you admit it. Having those words come out of your mouth... Hearing them would have destroyed me. It was too much like what she did. My mother, I mean. And that ruined—”
Joe tilted his face up to the sky.Shit. He’d just opened a can of worms. Hell, he’d opened his own fucking tackle store.
“Ruined what?” Roxie asked, her voice trembling.
He exhaled. It was time to lay it all out on the line.
Looking at the woman before him, he waited for her emerald eyes to meet his. “The possibility of us ever being more than friends.”
CHAPTERTWELVE
Two hours later, Roxie poured the blueberry pie filling she’d just made into its crust. Thank god the morning baking routine was second nature to her because her mind was in a damn whirl; she was moving on autopilot.
The possibility of us ever being more than friends.
A shiver ran up her spine. What the hell had Joe meant by that? A second after those words had passed his lips, he’d grabbed her by the hand and taken off running. She’d thought that when they got back home, he’d explain himself.
But no. He’d simply nudged her in the direction of the front steps, said he’d be by the café later, and mumbled, “I’m gonna put a few more miles in.” Then he took off.
That had been it. No backward glance, no other explanation. Nothing.
Now here she was... stewing. Overthinking and overanalyzing. Replaying every single word he’d said in her mind. Over and over and over again.
After weaving a lattice crust atop the blueberry pie, she put it, along with an equally gorgeous apple pie—and a not-quite-as-gorgeous huckleberry pie—into the oven and went to join Sheila at the front counter.
She needed a distraction. Now.
Five minutes and a handful of lattes later, Roxie got it.
The bell on the front door chimed, and a new customer—amalecustomer—walked in. The lecherous anticipation that consumed Sheila’s blue eyes had Roxie laughing.
“Down, girl,” she whispered.
“Whoisthat, Roxie? And why on earth have I never seen him here before?” Sheila licked her lips, and Roxie held back a grimace at the production. The woman looked like she’d have no qualms about hopping over the counter to devour the newcomer.
Not that Roxie could blame her. Cade de la Rosa was truly one fine specimen of a man. He was a delicious cross between Channing Tatum and Mark Consuelos. A few years back, he’d been one of the top mixed martial arts fighters in the world, and though he no longer competed, the man was still ripped. Nope, she took that back. He wasbeyondripped. Simply put, the guy was six-plus feet of pure sex appeal. Then if that weren’t enough, Cade was a genuinely nice guy.
