Love Me (Take a Chance)

chapter Eleven


If he ended up in front of her door like this one more time, Thomas was going to set up camp on the doorstep.

Five days of dead silence. Five days when she wouldn’t answer his calls, and he’d been ready to call it off. He’d only chase her so far before something had to give. He’d kept himself busy finalizing the details for the Golden Hand Casino marketing package but not so busy he hadn’t noticed that even her e-mails came from her assistant.

Not from her.

Maybe mixing business with pleasure really had been a bad idea.

He had been knee-deep in mid-week paperwork earlier today when she’d called him and invited him over for dinner. Her voice had been strange, deliberately glib. Why? And why had she even bothered to call him? He’d started to think they were over. She didn’t want him with her kids, trying to take their father’s place.

But he’d never try to replace Michael. Michael was their father. Thomas could be their friend and her support, but he didn’t know how to be a father. And it wasn’t his right to try.

But he didn’t know how to make Brianna understand that.

Hell, he didn’t even know how to talk to kids. For the past few days, he’d brooded over Katelyn’s tea set and those two empty places. She’d been waiting for him to come play with her. Was she upset that he hadn’t? He clenched his fists. Tonight, even if Brianna sent him packing, he would sit down and have a tea party with Katelyn. He wouldn’t break his promise to the little angel.

He raised his hand to the door, then stopped and let it fall. In the side yard, Zach was kicking a soccer ball, maneuvering it between and around two posts staked into the ground. The boy clearly didn’t like him, wanted nothing to do with him, but Thomas couldn’t help empathizing with him. Zach probably felt the weight of his father’s absence the most and felt the need to be the man of the household.

That was a lot of weight to carry on skinny thirteen-year-old shoulders. Thomas had tried to shoulder that weight himself once and had made a strange little family for Erica, Jeremy, and himself—until he’d been stupid enough to tear it apart with false accusations.

Thomas stepped off the porch and into the yard. The ball rolled to his feet. He stopped it with the toe of his boot, his heart thundering in his ears. “Hey. Think you can block me?”

Zach glowered, his mouth set tight, but he backed up across the expanse of the yard and positioned himself between the two posts. Thomas kicked the ball a few feet across the grass, then drew back and punted it hard. It whistled through the air, toward the two posts. Zach dove and smacked it away sharply. Not even the dim dusk could hide the surprised look Zach shot at Thomas.

“You kick all right for an ugly old dude.”

So he wanted to trash talk? Thomas could do that. “Which one are you again? Oh, right. Zach. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with your pants up.”

Zach’s cheeks suffused with red. “You’d think by now you’d get the point and stop coming around,” Zach snapped. “But here you are. Back again.”

He kicked the soccer ball at Thomas. Hard. Thomas managed to block it with his shin and herded it to a stop with both feet, but it stung. “So you want to play like that, huh?”

Thomas kicked the soccer ball back. “A bit of bare skin won’t scare me away.”

Zach blocked it with ease. “Guess I’ll have to try harder.” He kicked the ball back with even more force than before.

The impact of the ball against his legs hurt like hell but Thomas wouldn’t give the boy the satisfaction of showing it. Zach might look small but he had one hell of a kick.

“You can try to scare me off but I happen to like your mom. A lot.”

He winged the ball back. Maybe this was what they needed. A one-on-one. Man to man.

Zach narrowed his eyes and intercepted the ball. Thomas widened his stance and braced for the stinging pain.

“You want to screw her and then leave her, you mean?”

Fury and shock punched Thomas in the gut. His vision reddened. How dare the little jackass insinuate that he was only here to get laid? Zach hauled back and let loose.

“Now you listen to—” Pain exploded over his eye, turning the red fury into nothingness. He couldn’t see a single thing except blackness and pulsing starbursts. Son of a bitch, the kid had probably given him a black eye. He heard the house door bang open and footsteps running to his side.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Brianna cried. She pulled his hands down from his face and peered into his eyes. “Hold still. You might have a concussion.”

He blinked rapidly. His entire face throbbed. As his vision cleared, he caught Zach’s eye. The boy snickered behind his hand and turned away. Thomas clenched his teeth and focused on Brianna again.

“I’m fine,” he managed. “A little ice and a few Advil would be nice, though.”

“What happened?’ she asked, then shot her son a look. “Did you do this on purpose?”

Zach froze. “So what if I did? He’s annoying.”

“Zachary, go to your room. No—first call Joey and tell him you can’t make the game tomorrow, then go to your room.” Brianna planted her hands on her hips, back straight and stiff. “I’m very disappointed in you. What would your father think about your behavior?”

Zach seemed to snap at her words. Anger tinged every word he spat out. “He’d be happy! This loser has no right coming into our lives. Taking you from Dad. Trying to play soccer with me. Who the hell asked him to do that?”

“Room. Now. Put a quarter in the swear jar on the way.” Brianna lifted her chin. “I invited him here and I’ll continue to do so whether you like it or not. Now go to your room.”

The boy glowered at Thomas one last time before stomping into the house and slamming the door shut behind him. Brianna’s shoulders slumped. She returned to Thomas’s side with a sigh.

“I’m so sorry for this. How bad is it?”

“It’s fine. Really.” He paused. “Don’t be too angry with him. I get why he feels that way. He doesn’t want to see you with anyone but his father.”

Zach was likely angry, confused, and bitter, Thomas thought. It was normal. But he needed to learn to express those feelings in healthier ways.

Ways that didn’t leave Thomas with a black eye.

“His reasons don’t make it acceptable,” she said. Her fingers brushed gently over his face, searching. He could tell her exactly where it hurt…but then she might stop touching him. “Do you still want to come in?”

“Yes, I do. I told you a surly teen won’t scare me away.” Or your hot-and-cold behavior. “As long as you want me here and keep me readily stocked with painkillers, I’m coming in.”

A hint of a smile softened her face. “In that case, follow me. We’ll get you some ice.”

She captured his hand, her skin warm against his, and led him inside. Once she got him settled on the couch, she hurried into the kitchen. Thomas leaned back against the cushions, smiling despite his aching face. This was so domestic—an angry teen, a doting mother. Almost like he was part of the family.

A man could get used to this.

Brianna returned and scooted next to him on the couch. Sighing, she pressed the blue ice pack to his brow, her eyes locked on him. “You’re going to bruise pretty badly.”

He brushed his fingers down her cheek. “Worth it.”

Something flickered across her face. Something he couldn’t make out. With a muttered curse, she lurched to her feet and headed back toward the kitchen. “I’ll get you some Advil.”

“Thanks,” he called, but she was already gone.

Why was she retreating from him? Whenever he seemed to get too close, to become too much a part of her life, she pulled away. He’d thought she wanted this—wanted something more than a brief fling. Wanted someone who could be a partner, stable and steady, and worthy of being in her kids’ lives. He was trying to be that for the short time he would be here. Then they could try a long-distance relationship or something like that. Hell, maybe he would even accept the position out here if things went well. But to know that? She had to let him in.

Maybe she’d decided Thomas Jones, f*cked-up marketing executive, wasn’t worthy.

He stilled. That thought hurt more than the throbbing in his skull, and that was saying a hell of a lot. How had this woman come to matter so much to him in so little time?

And if he was honest with himself, was he all of the things she wanted for her and her kids?

She returned with a tumbler of whiskey and two pills. Her mouth quirked wryly as she handed both over. “I figured this would work better than water.”

“You figured right.” He popped the pills and washed them down with the alcohol. The burning sensation slid down his throat and into his chest, easing the headache…if not the heartache. “Thanks.”

“So what did Zach say?”

Thomas nearly choked on the last sip of his drink. “What?”

Her mouth set. “You heard me. You told me you played through college. I doubt you’d miss an easy pass, so what did he say to make you miss it?”

No way. She didn’t need to know this one. “Don’t worry about it. It’s between the two of us.”

Her jaw tightened. “Thomas…”

“It’s fine. I’ll handle it.” He pressed the ice tighter to his eye and grimaced. “Don’t worry about him, either. Kid can kick.”

“I know he can. I’m just pissed you had to find out with your face. And don’t tell me—swear jar. I know.” She frowned. “I’ll put a whole damned twenty in there if you tell me what he said.”

“It’s between us,” he repeated. “If I’m going to be a part of your life, you have to trust me. If you don’t trust me enough to handle the situation, then maybe I shouldn’t be here.”

Fury ignited in her gaze, bright and snapping. “Oh? And how did your marriage work out, again?”

He tensed. “That has nothing to do with this and you know it.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“My marriage ended because she cheated on me with anything that moved and flaunted it in my face. Liked it, even.” He slammed his glass down on the table, angry at the impotence he’d felt creeping up on him without warning. “I think she got off on it. On seeing me suffer.”

She reached for his hand, her eyes soft. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed you. It’s just hard for me to let go in these situations. You’re asking me to trust you, but you won’t trust me enough to talk about this stuff openly. He’s my son and I’m used to disciplining him on my own.”

He paused. If she let him, he could be here for her. If she stopped pushing him so damn hard, he would be able to steady his course. He sighed and captured her hand, lifting it to his lips to press a kiss to the center of her palm. “We’re down to less than a week to try and see if we have something worth fighting for, Bree. After that time is up, we’ll have to evaluate things. See where we stand. But I’m here now. If you stop pushing me away for the rest of my time here, I’ll try to stop being a closed book.”

“O-oh. Then…I mean, if you definitely want to be here, I’ll try to…”

There she went, getting shy and flustered again. He lingered on the curve of her lashes as they swept to her cheeks; he wanted to kiss her, tumble her back to the couch and finish what they’d started days ago, but he needed to prove to her—and himself—that he wasn’t only thinking with the head between his legs.

He cupped her cheek and smiled. Trailing his hand over her shoulder, he traced a line over the swell of her breasts. “I’ll try, too. And while I’m trying, I’ll be doing my best to keep my hands to myself. Have I told you how sexy you look tonight?”

“No, but thank you. It’s hard for me, too. But I don’t want to rush and—”

He dropped a kiss on her lips, keeping it soft. Even the tame kiss sent shards of need piercing through him. He pulled back reluctantly. “I know.”

Her cheeks flushed a fetching pink, and her mouth twitched into a half smile. She pulled her hand from his and touched the outer edge of his eye gingerly. “I’m sorry you had to be a casualty of this particular war. Zach and I have been dueling for days.”

“Let me have a talk with him and let him know it’s not okay. We’ll never work this out if we don’t communicate. Don’t think about it anymore, all right?”

He draped his arm across her shoulders and tugged her close. She tensed. Her gaze fell on the empty glass, and she shrugged loose. “Would you like more?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” He sighed and let his arm drop to his side.

She was hardly even paying attention to him. Her gaze focused somewhere else—somewhere he didn’t belong. He followed her line of sight. A picture of her husband rested over the fireplace. The man stared back at him like he always did: condescending and filled with disapproval. It was only a picture, but to Thomas that weight was always there.

He looked away from the picture and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. On the end table next to him was a picture he hadn’t seen before. A teenaged couple dressed for prom. He picked it up and studied it. The boy looked like Michael, which meant the adorable, curvy girl was…

Brianna snatched the portrait from his hand and clutched it tight to her chest, her face nearly purple. “Don’t look at that.”

He pried it from her fingers. “Why not?”

“Because I look horrible. Michael loved this picture, so I had to keep it out. After he died, it felt…wrong to put it away.”

Like hell. Even back then, she’d been lovely. He held the picture under her nose. “Look again. Not horrible. Gorgeous.”

She stared at him. “Are we looking at the same picture? Are we even on the same planet?”

“Yes.” He set the picture down carefully, putting it exactly where it had been.

She stared at him, her eyes brimming. “I won’t lie—he’s still in my head and in my heart. I’ll always miss him and always love him.”

God, could she twist the knife any deeper? Damn it all to hell. He’d been a fool pining for a woman who still loved a dead man. “I get it. I do. It’s fine. You don’t need to say anything else.”

“But I do.” Her voice was heavy. “I still feel for him, yes. I always will. But now you’re here and it’s all jumbling up in my head until I forget what I feel. What I should feel.”

Thomas reached out to clasp her hands. “There is no should. There’s only what you do feel. It’s all right to move on. I can’t speak for Michael but I know I’d want you to be happy.”

“I know. I know he would want me to be happy.” She closed her eyes tightly and clutched his fingers hard enough to hurt. “It’s just confusing. I never expected or hoped to find anyone else.”

She was being so honest and open, and he should do the same. But talking about his past mistakes didn’t come easily to him. He’d spent his whole adult life bottling those things up deep inside of him, leashed and locked behind steel doors. But maybe he should have been dealing with his f*cked-up past instead of ignoring it. Maybe it was time to grow up and stop hiding his pain from everyone.

With Brianna, at least, it seemed as if he could actually do that. She made him want to change. To be better. She deserved better.

He swallowed past his aching throat. “I know the feeling. I got it wrong the first time and figured there was no point in bothering again when the first time was a mistake. I…” He shook his head. “But it wasn’t. It was a lesson. I chose the wrong person to give my heart to. I don’t think I’ll make that mistake twice.”

Her death grip slowly eased. “But I went too fast. Isn’t that a mistake? I should have waited to introduce you to the kids. Taken it slower. I don’t want to rush you.”

“You didn’t. I’m only here for less than a week now. I’m happy where I am.”

She looked up at him, her eyes vulnerable, open. Open for him. God help him, he couldn’t let her down. And he couldn’t resist any longer; he needed to touch her. To have her. He leaned close, yet stopped a breath from claiming her. A breath from tasting her. A breath of space, if she needed it.

“Are you happy when I’m here?” he whispered.

“I am,” she said and pulled him close. “It’s why I called you. I missed you, Thomas.”

Victory surged through his blood. She had actually missed him. If it was even a fraction of the amount he had missed her, then there was hope for them. Knowing this made his hunger for her even more intense. When her lips touched his, the impact rocked through him like a firestorm. The sweet taste of her lips made him ache. He savored her, pulled her closer, clutched her against him. The ice bag tumbled to the floor but he didn’t give a damn. Right now she was all the medicine he needed and as long as she kept kissing him like this, he’d be just fine.

His hands trailed down her arms as he delved deeper, possessing her thoroughly. His heart beat a rapid staccato. Her whimper urged him on. A surge of need washed over him. He needed to be with her in every way, or he’d explode.

Footsteps crept down the stairs. Thomas and Brianna broke apart like naughty children caught in the act. Brianna’s cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and damp. Thomas avoided having to make another donation to the swear jar in the nick of time and adjusted his much-too-tight jeans.

Katelyn came around the stairwell, caught sight of him, and beamed. She was dressed all in pink and Thomas couldn’t help smiling.

“Hey, Princess.”

“Thomas the Tank Engine!”

He met Brianna’s eyes over Katelyn’s head and mouthed, Thomas the Tank Engine?

Don’t ask, she mouthed back, barely repressing laughter.

Katelyn hopped onto the couch and scooted between them like a tiny chaperone. “Can we have our tea party now?”

“Sure. As long as your mommy doesn’t mind.”

“Go for it,” Brianna said.

Thomas lingered with a last fond touch to Brianna’s hair, then followed Katelyn upstairs into her room. The tea set was still laid out, the settings perfectly in place. “Has this been waiting all this time?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded, looking up at him with serious eyes. “I didn’t want to play tea until you could come over again.”

Thomas’s stomach flipped. Knowing she waited for him, without a doubt that he would follow through with his promise, hit him in the gut like a fist. What if he hadn’t come? Would she have waited forever for him to return? The mere idea settled on his shoulders like a weight. “Thank you.”

She handed him a cup of tea and sat down, primly arranging her skirt. “Do you like milk in your tea?”

“Yes, please.” He held his cup out and let her fill it with imaginary tea and milk, her tiny hands tipping the pink teapot. When she finished, he held his pinkie straight up, lifted the cup to his mouth, and pretended to drink. “Ow! It’s hot.”

“Of course it is, silly. It’s tea.” She covered her mouth and giggled, her eyes dancing. “Blow on it like this.” She puckered her lips and blew on her cup.

Thomas did the same and took another sip. “Much better. You’re smart and pretty.”

“Mama says that, too.” She fidgeted in her chair. “Can Daddy have tea with us, too?”

“Sure. Want me to get his picture?”

“I got it!” She skipped across the room, snagged the photo, skipped back, forcefully ejected a bunny from its seat, and set her father’s picture down in the chair. “There. Now we’re all here.”

Thomas’s throat went dry. He wanted nothing more than to sweep Katelyn in his arms and promise to be the best man he could be. For her. “He needs tea. Does he like milk, too?”

“Yes.” She pretended to pour milk into the cup, then faltered and bit her lip. “I think he does, anyway.”

“He does,” Brianna said, leaning in the doorway with a tender smile on her lips and unshed tears shining in her eyes. “And sugar.”

“Come have tea with us, Mama.”

Brianna moved a teddy bear, sank into the chair next to Thomas, and rested her hand on his knee. “Thank you.”

Cody leaned into the room, his face incredulous. “Dude. Are you playing tea party? With the girls?”

Thomas nodded. “It’s good tea. Want some?”

“Uh.” Cody backed up, going pale. “No. I’m okay.”

When he fled the room like his ass was on fire, Thomas laughed and turned back to Brianna. She watched him intently, gaze clouded, then leaned in and kissed him. Gently, but it was still in front of Katelyn, and Thomas nearly dropped his teacup.

“I like when you laugh,” she said. “You don’t do it enough.”

He brushed a finger down her cheek, unable to put into words the way she made him feel. His pulse pounded in his ears. Nicole had always told him he was annoying when he laughed. He laughed too loud or too much. He hadn’t realized it until now but that had stuck with him. Her cruel words had shaped him more than he’d realized.

“I never had much to laugh about before,” he said. “Not until you.”

“Smile.” Katelyn held a little pink camera up and aimed it at them. “I want a picture of our tea party.”

They smiled and said “cheese.” Katelyn snapped the picture, then squinted at it.

Brianna leaned in and whispered, “It’s probably a great shot of our laps.”

“I’ll take that picture,” he whispered back.

She laughed and nudged him with her shoulder. “You’re incorrigible, no matter what you say.”

“For the things that matter, I am.” When he looked into her eyes, he felt laid bare. The feeling was almost frightening, this raw openness, as if he’d lost any hope of hiding. “And you’re high up on that list.”

She smiled and kissed him one more time, then looked at Katelyn. “Is the picture good?”

“One more time.” Katelyn snapped the picture before they had a chance to pose. “Perfect. It’s the bestest I’ve ever taken.”

“Can we see it?” Thomas asked.

“No.” She tucked the camera away with a smug smile. “Not yet.”

“Okay. Are you hungry?” Brianna asked.

“Yes!” Katelyn bounced. “Is Thomas staying for dinner? Please?”

“Sure. As long as Thomas is okay with pizza again. I promised Cody.”

“And I promised Cody I’d work on his tree house.” Thomas stood. “I think I’ll take a hack at that until dinner.”

“I’ll help!” Katelyn beamed. “Let’s go downstairs and find some tools.”

She grabbed both Thomas’s and Brianna’s hands and led them out into the hallway, but Thomas tugged free.

“I’ll be right down,” he said, and watched his girls skip down the stairs.

Then he went back into the bedroom, picked up the picture of Michael, and set it back in its rightful place by Katelyn’s bed. “I’m sorry you aren’t here anymore but I’ll do my best to make them happy.” He stared at the picture, as if he was actually waiting for an answer from the beyond, and then left the room feeling a little bit more welcome than he had before.

…

Two days later, Brianna curled up against Thomas’s side. He still smelled like fresh pine and a hint of sweat. She’d watched him into the early evening as he put in a new floor for the tree house, after treating Katelyn to ice cream on an impromptu trip to the hardware store. He’d seemed so easy and sure of himself out there working with his hands, balancing on the tree’s branches with an agile grace that made her want him all over again. By the time he’d come in, he’d been dirty and covered in bark, nothing like the slick executive she’d met over lunch in the restaurant.

But every inch like her Thomas.

He hit play on the remote and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled closer and murmured, “I bet this isn’t how you envisioned your Friday nights in Vegas when you asked me out the first time.”

He chuckled and hugged her close, his lips on her temple. “Nope, but I like it. Vegas is all party and booze. I like this quiet home life better.”

Hope surged in her chest. She opened her mouth, about to promise him the world if he would only stay with her and take the job in the Vegas office, but she closed it just as quickly. He had to make that decision on his own. She wouldn’t give him any pressure or place any thoughts in his head. Their time was running out, but she wouldn’t say a single word about that.

She’d just…be happy. Not stress over the future for once. “I thought Katelyn would never fall asleep tonight. Why is it that the two oldest kids fell asleep before the little one?”

He chuckled. “She’s too excited about the playground tomorrow for sleep.”

“I know. Especially since you’re coming, too.”

“Are you kidding? You said we could have ice cream. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

“Watch it with the ice cream. That’s half the reason she wouldn’t go to sleep tonight.”

“She asked for cookies and cream. How could I say no to that face?”

Brianna groaned. “She owns you already. Don’t give in to that face. It’s pure evil.”

“It’s pure adorable.” Thomas paused. “I’m…I’m not used to this. This family thing. Any of it. I—I kind of screwed things up with my own family.”

“With Nicole? She was an idiot.”

He fell silent, staring at the TV; its babbling nonsense noise was too loud between them. Brianna took the remote from him and stopped the movie. The look on his face was painful, a wretched struggle that said he wanted so much to go further but couldn’t. Not without her help.

She rested her hand on his chest. “You have a sister,” she said—prompting him quietly. He’d refused to talk about his sister before. Maybe he would now that they’d spent more time together. He seemed to like it here with her—and she liked having him here. All of him.

“Yeah. Erica.” He looked at Brianna, then looked away again, focusing on the wall. “It was just me and her growing up. Our parents were always busy, but we looked out for each other. Jeremy, too.”

“Who is Jeremy?”

“Her husband. He was my best friend. I guess he is again.” He gave a little shrug, but the tenseness of his body gave away the motion as a cover-up. “I don’t know why he would want to be my friend, though.”

Her heart twisted at the look of abject failure on his face. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“No,” he said sharply, then stopped. He practically deflated, sighing and giving her an apologetic glance. “Yes.”

She only smiled and leaned into him. This moment was fragile, and she wouldn’t pressure him. He’d only close up. Instead she let him take his time; she could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes, thoughts gathering. Finally, he took a deep breath and began.

“I’m still not completely sure how Jeremy and I became friends. We got in a fight over something in junior high, beat each other up…and became best friends in the way only boys could be. We were different in a lot of ways. Yet the same.” He let out a brief laugh. “He didn’t have much family, either. So we were like brothers. But Erica…I think they fell in love the moment they met, even when she was still young enough to be following me around calling me Tommy.”

“Tommy,” she repeated, arching a brow.

He winced. “Yeah. I hated it. Still do. She still calls me Tommy. So does Jeremy.” The smile on his lips was fond, distant. “I guess while they were busy falling in love, so was I. With Nicole. We were stupid. Got married at eighteen. I was so love-blind that I let her mold me into the man she wanted. I got the job she wanted. Bought the house she wanted. Did anything and everything she wanted, even turning a blind eye to the men she brought home when I wasn’t there. And there were a lot of them.”

Brianna’s breath caught. How could any woman do that to someone who loved her—who was capable of the kind of raw, real love that even now she could hear in Thomas’s voice? “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“I’m not. It’s what gave me the courage to walk away from her and realize how miserable I really was. But not before I screwed a lot of things up.” Pain hardened his voice. He looked away from Brianna and stared fixedly at the wall. Each word was clipped, forced. “She said she’d slept with Jeremy. Worse, that he’d forced her. That was back when I was still making excuses for her, when she’d pretend to be sweet and swear she’d never do it again. Deep down, I didn’t believe her. But I reacted badly. I beat the hell out of Jeremy and told him never to come back to my house. Our friendship ended the way it began…only he didn’t hit back. He just looked at me, like I’d taken the most important thing in the world from him.”

His fist was clenching and unclenching against his knee, as if remembering every blow. He looked down at it, staring at it as if it was somehow to blame. “I guess I had,” he murmured. “Erica and I were his real family. And he loved her so much.”

“You didn’t know,” she whispered, her heart breaking for him.

“But I should have.” He lifted his head, pinning her down with his stare. “I should have seen it. I should have known he wouldn’t touch her. He hated her. Everyone did but me. I wised up and split with Nicole a few days later, but it was too late. He was gone. I sent him away and he joined the Marines soon after our fight. I wanted to write to him so many times, but I didn’t.”

She wanted so much to hold him. Draw him against her bosom and just cradle him close, stroke his hair, soothe him. But he was still so tense. “But they’re married now,” she offered. “So it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “But it wouldn’t have happened if not for pure coincidence. He was walking down a desert road with a killer hangover and a few bruises, and she found him. Brought him home with her. Fate gave them a second chance. Not me.” Finally, he met her eyes. The struggle in his had been replaced by something she thought might be relief—and again that plea for understanding that she’d seen so often before. Had Nicole understood him so little? “Not everyone gets a second chance handed to them. I want to make my own. Do what I want, not what someone else wants for me.”

What someone else wants for me. Like a family. A future together, with three children that weren’t even his own.

In that moment, she was tempted to run away again. Protect her heart from his inevitable departure. But if she did that, she’d be shutting him out of her life the same way she’d shut everyone out of her life when she’d turtled up and turned into a protective Mama Bear. So she leaned her head against his shoulder, offering the comfort of her closeness if she could give nothing else.

“Anything can be forgiven, Thomas. If they hated you, they wouldn’t talk to you at all. Do they talk to you?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He leaned into her. His warmth wrapped around her. “But I still feel guilty as hell. I love them so much.”

And I might be falling in love with you. She bit her tongue, swallowing the words back. How could she fall in love with him when she knew their time was limited? And how could she even think about love when he constantly held himself distant from her?

Tonight had been a start, but that’s all it was. In a few days, he’d be gone. And she’d be alone. Again.