He opened and closed his mouth, as if he had a tic in his jaw, then released a ragged breath. “You know about my dad, right?”
She faltered. “You mean…”
“That he cheated on my mom with anything in a skirt?” Sarcasm dripped freely from his voice. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”
“I heard the rumors,” she said tentatively.
A lot of rumors. Even in high school, she’d heard about Henry Bishop’s indecent reputation. Owen and Jake had been two years ahead of her in school, their younger brother Austin a year behind, so it was no surprise that all their peers constantly gossiped about the boys’ father. Apparently Henry Bishop hadn’t tried to hide his behavior either, not from his wife, or anyone else in town.
Owen was quiet for nearly a minute. “Before he died, I asked him why he did it,” he confessed.
Eek. Maddie could just envision that conversation. Henry lying in a hospital bed as the cancer ravaged his stomach, while his son questioned him about his extracurricular activities. Owen would have been about nineteen when his father died.
“What did he say?” she asked softly.
Owen made a harsh sound in his throat. “Oh, he gave me a whole speech about how much he loved Mom, that he’d always loved her, but that he was just weak. He said he got restless, tired of the same old thing—yeah, apparently Mom was a thing—and that he couldn’t resist temptation.”
Maddie raised her eyebrows. “And you think that you’re like him?” She shook her head. “No way, Owen. You’re not weak, and you certainly don’t treat women like objects.”
“But I think I inherited that restlessness,” he said hoarsely. “Even in high school, I’d go out with a girl, but get bored and restless with her after only a few days, already having eyes on someone new.”
“Lots of people get bored with the people they’re with,” she said in a quiet voice. “It usually means they haven’t found the right person.”
He glanced over at her in dismay. “You really believe that?”
“Sure.”
“Then what about my dad?” he pointed out. “Because he claimed that my mother was the right person for him. He just couldn’t stay faithful to her.” He visibly swallowed. “What if that happens to me? I find the right woman, but she’s still not enough for me.”
Frustration filled Maddie’s chest. “My mom used to say that people who live their lives worrying about the what ifs aren’t actually living their lives.”
“That’s pretty perceptive of her.” He focused those sexy gray eyes on her face. “You never talk about your mom.”
“She died a long time ago,” Maddie said with a sad smile. “There’s not much to say about it.”
“Do you miss her?”
“All the time.”
They went quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Maddie wished her mother were still alive, so she could tell her about Owen, ask her advice about the ridiculous fear he’d evidently harbored all of these years. Her mom had always known exactly what to say, but she’d died when Maddie was eleven, leaving her to be raised by a strict father and three overprotective older brothers. Maybe if she’d had a feminine role model, she wouldn’t be such a damn tomboy. Maybe she’d have a better understanding of men as a woman and not just a buddy.
“I think you’re comparing yourself with your father when there really is no comparison,” she finally said, reaching for his hand and stroking his calloused palm. “You’re not going to cheat on your wife, Owen. When you find the right woman, you’ll be faithful to her.”
A lump lodged in the back of her throat. Me, she wanted to add. I’m the right woman. But she didn’t have the nerve. Everything between them was still so new, so fragile. She didn’t want to scare him off, so she kept quiet, only to experience a shock at his next words.
“I think I’ve already found her,” he said in a husky voice.
Their gazes locked.
“You mean that?” she whispered.
He leaned closer and brushed his lips over hers. “You’re my best friend, Maddie. And you drive me absolutely mad with lust.” His gaze dropped to his groin, which now sported a massive erection. “I can’t think of a better deal than that, can you?”
A smile reached her lips. “No, I don’t think it gets any better,” she agreed.
Cooper’s palms were unusually damp as he waited on Lexie’s front porch. Last time he’d been here, she’d slammed the door in his face, and he was pretty sure this was going to be a repeat performance, especially after she heard what he had to say.