Almost Perfect (Fool's Gold #2)

“Are you going to be a writer?” Melissa asked. “When you grow up?”


Tyler shook his head. “I want to build stuff, like my dad.”

Ethan happened to be looking at Liz as their son spoke. She didn’t react at all, as if she’d already heard this. But to him, the information was new and filled him with a sense of pride. He waited for that to be followed by resentment—after all, he’d already lost so much.

The feelings were there, but not as intense as before. The loss, the anger was muted somehow. Less important. Liz had been right—he couldn’t have a relationship in the present if he kept living in the past. What mattered with Tyler was today.

His gaze drifted over Liz’s face. She was a part of his son’s life. He couldn’t have one without dealing with the other. He’d loved Liz once—as much as he could at that age. With a limited life experience and nothing much ever required of him. He’d been a child in a man’s body. He was older now. But all that life experience hadn’t made him a whole lot smarter when it came to Liz.

THE AFTERNOON OF BIKE RIDING stretched into a dinner out, followed by a movie. By the time Ethan walked Liz and the kids home, it was after ten and everyone was tired.

Liz felt her own emotional exhaustion sucking at every step and knew the girls had to be ready to collapse, as well. For once, no one protested getting ready for bed. While she checked on the girls, Ethan said good-night to Tyler. They met downstairs. Liz was prepared to thank him for the day and show him the door, but something in his eyes stopped her. They were bright with an emotion she didn’t recognize.

“I never got to do that before,” he revealed quietly. “Put him to bed.”

There was nothing accusatory in his tone, and still she felt as if he’d hit her in the stomach. Her body stiffened as guilt flooded her. Then like a montage in a movie, she saw her son’s life as a series of pictures.

Somehow in the challenge of raising a baby alone, she’d forgotten about the magical moments Ethan had missed. The first smile, first step, first word. First day of school, first friend. But even more painful were the everyday things she took for granted. The moments that made a relationship.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and sank onto the sofa. “I’m so sorry.”

He sat next to her and wrapped his arms around her. For once, she let herself lean on someone as everything crashed in on her. Being back in town, the stress with her nieces, the reality of dealing with Ethan again. He might be the cause, but he was also the only safe haven she’d ever known. While their time together had ended badly, that was for another time. This was about now and maybe what could have been.

“I never wanted it to be like this,” she muttered, fighting tears.

He touched his fingers to her chin, easing her head up until they looked at each other.

“I know,” he told her.

“It’s mostly your fault,” she declared with a sniff.

“I’ll take some of the blame.”

“I can’t believe you married Rayanne.”

She hadn’t meant to say that and as soon as the words popped out, she covered her mouth.

“I take it back,” she said quickly. “I’m sure she was lovely.” After all, Pia had changed into a nice, normal person. Rayanne could have had the same sort of transformation.

He angled toward her, his hand resting on her shoulder. “You mean, why did I marry her?”

“I didn’t ask you that. I’m assuming the normal kind of thing. Dating, falling in love, marriage.”

His dark gaze held hers. “You know about my bike crash in my senior year of college?”

She nodded.

“It was a moment of bad judgment or bad luck. I zigged when I should have zagged.” He shrugged. “I hit Josh’s bike, but I was the one who went down. I was hurt bad enough that I couldn’t race again.”

“That must have changed everything.” She remembered how he’d loved the sport. How winning mattered more than nearly anything. Without wanting to, she recalled the night he’d vowed that she was more important than anything else. How he loved her more than winning. She’d been young enough and foolish enough to want to believe him.

“I didn’t take it well,” he admitted. “I was angry and blamed Josh. He felt guilty enough that we didn’t talk for over ten years.”

That stunned her. “He was your best friend.”

“Yeah, well, we can both be stubborn. Things are fine now.”

“I hope so.”

“You’re too softhearted.”

“I pretend-murder people for a living. How softhearted can I be?”

“I’ll remember that.” He reached for her hand with his. “I finished school and came back to town. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, but I wasn’t going to do it here. A few weeks later, my dad dropped dead of a heart attack. I’m the oldest. Suddenly it was all up to me.”