Jack was huge and well trained. Pat was playing it cool for my sake. I settled my head back onto his shoulder. “Man, I want to kill him.”
“He’s just trying to protect you. I can understand where he’s coming from.”
“I know. But I’m not sixteen. I’m thirty-one!”
Pat dropped a kiss to my forehead. He cupped my face, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “I meant what I said. Last thing I want is to ruin your relationship with Jack. I will leave.”
“No.” I shook my head, knocking a few tears down my cheeks. “My relationship with Jack was on fire before you came into the picture.”
Pat’s thumb swept a tear off my cheek. His other thumb ran over my lips, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Thank you for coming to my defense.” My voice quaked with desire. How could I experience such a rollercoaster of emotions in so few minutes? “You took a punch for me.”
“I’d do it again.”
Before I could stop myself, my lips were on his. I clasped my hands behind his neck and leaned into him. Pat was receptive, lacing his fingers into my hair. My heart raced out of control, and desperation unleashed from deep inside me. I practically threw myself at him.
I needed more. Just like I needed more liquor. More danger. More adrenaline. No band-aid had ever fixed me.
Patrick won’t fix me either.
I rejected the thought as soon as it surfaced and forced myself to be thankful I had him. Just for a minute.
Jack’s words reverberated in my brain.“Put it on record that I think he is a mistake.”
What if he was right?
When we pulled apart, the disappointment hurtling into my spirit was like the crash after a high. My heart should’ve been soaring, but it wasn’t. Something cold and dark had gripped me, and I knew the deliriously wonderful ride I was on would end like all the rest had. Abruptly. Painfully. Leaving me more hollow inside than the crash before.
Am I always going to feel so broken?
“Hey,” Pat was a little breathless as his forehead furrowed. “Why so sad?”
I checked my expression. “I’m with you. I’m not sad.”
“I’m going to go shower and change. You do the same, and I will pick you up for some breakfast.” His smile pushed back against the cloud over my heart. “I have some phone calls to make after that.”
I managed to smile back. “You have a daughter to find.”
A few minutes later, I was talking to myself, allowing the hot water to burn my back and wash my reservations down the drain. I convinced myself the emotional episode was an off moment. It was stress from the argument, that’s all.
When Pat reappeared, the doubts faded to gray.
* * *
Someone knocked on my door. Pat wasn’t due to arrive for a couple more hours. It was his first day back at work, and he wasn’t supposed to get off until around 6 p.m. I figured it wasn’t him, but I stopped and checked my hair in the mirror before I went to the door. Hair was looking rough, so I grabbed my Vandy hat off the mantle and slipped my locks through the opening at the back.
I looked through the peephole. A bouquet was raised to block the view. A smile pulled at my cheeks. Pat must’ve left work early for some reason. I threw the door open, and my smile melted.
It was Jack.
He still had his uniform on. The navy outfit always made him look more buff and intimidating than he already was. He fisted a bouquet out in front of him and smiled—well, kind of smiled. His smile was hesitant and timid like he was afraid I might slam the door in his face. Which was tempting, if I’m being honest.
I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned. “It’s barely been forty-eight hours. You expect me to be over it already?”
“Not really, but thought I’d try.”
“Think flowers are going to make up for the fact you punched my boyfriend?”
