“What’s that?”
“You showed me that I needed to rescue myself. To accept myself as I am. That I’m enough right now. If I went off with you, I would never know if it was because I truly loved you or because I fell into my old habit of waiting for someone to rescue me, and you came along at the right time.” I kissed his cheek. “You are wonderful and supportive and everything a woman could want. You deserve a woman who wants you for you, not what you can do for her. And deep down, you know I’m right.”
Rowan put his hands on his hips, clenched his jaw, and stared at the deck. “How long do you need?”
“How long does it take someone to learn to love themselves and trust their instincts?” I chuckled. “Will you give me that time?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he considered the question. “I will,” he sighed. “I love you. Take all the time you need. But will you keep in contact? Will you let me know you’re okay?”
I smiled at him through my blurry vision. “I promise.”
Chapter 40
Rowan Rafferty goes back to the scene of the crime
Eight weeks later
I perched precariouslyon the uncomfortable bar stool, its cracked vinyl poking through my pants. The overhead light flickered occasionally, casting shadows around the room that seemed to dance with the low hum of conversation. I clutched the edge of the bar, hoping I didn’t fall to the floor like the unfortunate patron who plummeted to the ground about twenty minutes ago.
He had landed in a heap, his glass shattering on impact, and the acrid scent of cheap alcohol mingled with the stale air of The Squad Room. Dixon, the owner, a burly man with a military-precise flattop and an ever-watchful eye, had stepped in swiftly, snatching the man’s keys and calling him a cab with a mix of exasperation and casual authority.
“Damn firefighters,” Dixon grumbled. “Can’t hold their liquor.”
As the clock ticked closer to five, I shredded napkin after napkin, creating quite a pile on the polished wooden bar surface.
Dixon wiped down the bar next to me and picked up my shreds. “Nervous about something, kid?”
I glanced up at the man in the salt-and-pepper flat top. His T-shirt said,"Not slim. Kinda shady."
“The fate of the rest of my life,” I answered.
Dixon nodded. “Oh. Then, nothing serious.”
I laughed, and that eased some of the tension in my muscles. “Exactly.”
My phone buzzed.
Father
Good luck today. I have a good feeling about you two.
I smiled. The last eight weeks have been interesting. Not only was he helping me on a special project, but we also got to know each other again. Hearing Kendra talk about how the accident must have been difficult for my father and me made me rethink my anger toward him.
My father, who wasn’t the most emotional man, broke down when I mentioned the accident last week. It was a long-overdue conversation that felt like a thousand-pound weight was lifted off my shoulders.
Kendra was right.
And I missed her.
A heavy squeal of hinges announced someone’s arrival at The Squad Room. Dixon glanced over my shoulder to see who had come in. It was her. Even before I turned around, an electric thrill surged through me, sending my heartbeat racing. I could feel the world around me fade, consumed by the anticipation of seeing her again.
I gripped the bar's edge tightly, drawing a steadying breath as I turned around slowly.
There she stood, even more breathtaking than I remembered. Her hair cascaded in soft waves, forming a haloaround her face, catching the light in a way that made it shimmer. Her skin bore a warm, golden hue, a sun-kissed glow that radiated warmth. Her blue eyes sparkled with an energy that made my heart leap. They locked onto mine, and in that instant, the noise and chatter of the room dissolved into a distant murmur.
When she saw me, her lips curved into a smile that felt like the sun breaking through storm clouds. She ran toward me, and I felt an overwhelming rush of emotions—relief, joy, and a hint of fear. Would this moment be as perfect as I had imagined?
I braced myself, throwing open my arms wide to welcome her. Yet, as she slowed at the last second, I felt disappointment and gratitude. Thank goodness she didn’t send me tumbling backward.
