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“Holly.” He breathed my name like it was the only thing keeping him together. His hands twitched at his sides, but he didn’t reach for me.
Disappointment streaked across my chest. “Carlos.”
One corner of his mouth lifted at the curtness of my tone. “Shall we?”
The car was running, and I wondered why he hadn’t turned it off. Inside, “Love Is a Bitch” by Two Feet played on the speakers. Strangely enough, I didn’t know anything about that.
He didn’t speak as we drove block after block. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, and he constantly checked our surroundings. I wasn’t sure if he was just being careful, or if he was looking for someone.
At first, I wracked my brain for something to say and then realized I didn’t need to. When had I ever been comfortable enough around someone to need no words?
I settled into the leather seat. Although busy and exciting lives were outside all around us, my gaze kept returning to Carlos. Lines of experience and life and hardship creased the cinnamon skin around his eyes. There was already a shadow of stubble on his jaw. His mouth was downturned as if nothing could ever make him smile again . . . and I wanted to.
When he caught me looking, his expression was indecipherable, but I held my ground, unashamed I’d been studying him.
“Did you know President John Tyler had fifteen kids?”
He blinked at me, but his frown morphed into a flat line which I counted as a smile. “No?”
Gabriel’s constant fun facts about the US Presidents always took me by surprise. It was interesting to see that play out with someone else on the receiving end.
“It’s true. Eight boys and seven girls. The most children of any president.”
“Is that how many children you want?”
My heart rate sped up. He’d turned the tables on me. Why out of all the facts Gabriel had bestowed on me was this the one that had popped in my head? There was one about a dog. Of course that one hadn’t even occurred to me.
I cleared my throat. “Fifteen? I don’t think so. I used to want a big family.” The last part was a quiet confession, a longing I’d shoved deep down and buried.
“Used to?”
“Gabriel is all I need.” And he was. My boy was more of a blessing than I deserved.
Carlos scowled as he wheeled the car into an empty space by the curb. “Who stole that dream from you?”
The question was delivered with a look that demanded an answer.
“Life.”
Understanding flitted across haunted features. I wanted to escape the car and breathe in the cool air outside. Where we were in our relationship didn’t include deep, dark confessions.
Carlos glanced in the rearview mirror as he straightened the SUV in front of a deli. He did a double take and adjusted the mirror with such force I thought he’d rip it off.
“Get out of the car.”
I grabbed the edge of my seat at the viciousness in his tone. His stare was riveted to the mirror.
“Carlos?” I kept my tone even and calm.
“I won’t let him touch you,” he said without looking at me.
My brows drew together. “Who?” I glanced behind us. There was no one there.
Yet one of his hands white knuckled the steering wheel. The other snaked behind his back. His dark eyes flashed with such hate to whatever he saw in the mirror that it took my breath away.
I touched his arm. He flinched, still glued to the mirror. “Stay. Away.”
At the harsh words, my instinct was to yank my hand away from him. Instead, I slid it up his forearm and pried each finger off the steering wheel.
