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“I wasn’t going to compare.”
The ruggedness of his god-like face is softened by the flicker of empathy in his searing brown eyes. His look is so galvanizing that it sends tremors through my skin. It’s a look of conviction, want, and white-knuckled anger, like he’d hurt someone for me.
“That’s messed up—what he did.”
I shake my head, not expecting his understanding. I’m sure it will be followed by another line. I’ve heard them all. The positive spins that people try to use to make me feel better in a situation.
I voice one of them out loud. “You dodged a bullet, Tara. Imagine if you got married and he left you a year later. You were lucky it happened this way.” My bitterness is evident.
“You weren’t lucky. You were screwed. It’s fucked up.”
I blink up at him, confused by his sudden change of tone. “Why are you being nice to me again?”
“A shitty thing happened to you. Sounds like I should cut you some slack.”
“I bet you love this. Further proof happily ever after is bullshit.”
A small smirk graces his face. “It is, but I won’t try to change your mind. If you’ve been burned like that in the past and you still want another chance at love, then you might be as crazy as I thought you were.” He slides his hands into his pockets and then adds, “And braver than I ever imagined.”
His words hit me, challenging my defenses. There’s tenderness beneath his hard exterior, a glimmer of hope that he’s still capable of kindness. His physique and personality are so hard, yet there’s vulnerability that wants to break through when he looks at me like this. Like maybe he still has a little hope left inside him. Maybe he isn’t as mean as he wants me to think he is.
It’s unnerving.
“Did you punch your cousin in the face because of me?”
“Does it matter?”
“To me, it does.”
He purses his lips as he looks at me. There’s a harsh, uneven rhythm to his breathing and heat in his gaze. With the way his skin colors, I can practically see the blood coursing through his veins, like an awakened river. I don’t want to tear my attention away from him until he answers my question.
“Yes. Don’t start looking at me like I’m some sort of hero for it.”
“You’re the last man I ever planned on coming to my rescue, nor do I need it. It’s also time you quit being so condescending. There’s no reason for it.” I cross my arms and turn my back to him.
“I know.”
I look at him over my shoulder. “You do?”
“I can’t explain why I do it. I have a lot of stress, and I take it out on those around me.” He lets out a deep, ragged breath. There’s a clench to his jaw, like the words he’s about to say are hard to utter. “My life is in shambles. Molly hates to be away from me, but I have no way of giving her my time, not with how strained I am at my job. Jesse hates me. I can’t trust him for shit, and I want to. He wasn’t always this moody teenager. He was a good kid.”
“Divorce changed him?”
“Doesn’t mean it’s an excuse. He needs to get his act together.”
“You could start by taking it easier on him.”
“The kid was caught shop lifting, and that was after we found weed and used cans of spray paint in his bedroom.”
“Oh,” is all I mutter. Looks like Jesse is more of a troublemaker than I thought. “What’s the deal with Molly? She’s a good kid who just wants to be where her dad is. Why don’t you trust anyone with her?”
His hand rubs his stubbled jaw as he shakes his head. His eyes level with mine. “The last woman who promised everything was going to be okay filed for divorce and started dating my friend three months later. Leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You should understand that.”
I do, so I nod. “I guess Molly will spend the summer with her mom then. That should be nice.”
“Molly wants to be at the ranch, and I want to be with her.”
“Then, find someone to watch her.”
