“Sure. If he hadn’t dumped me three years before for cheating on him.”
I sit up, nearly choking. “You cheated on Noah?” Somehow, I don’t see a man as ice-cold as Noah forgiving something like that. And Charlie—just doesn’t seem like the type. She’s Little Miss Sunshine who owns a children’s bookstore.
“She’s exaggerating.” Rose rolls her eyes, clearly knowing more about the story.
“Blame it on the drinks, but I’ve got to say, you two don’t seem like a .?.?. likely pair .?.?.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Charlie goes on with her point. “All I’m saying is sometimes the best things .?.?. start off a bit messy.” She takes a sip of wine and shrugs. “What if this is just the start of something that was always meant to be yours?”
I can tell by Rose’s expression she doesn’t agree. Or she’s protectively wary. But she doesn’t say as much.
Frustrated with her silence, I decide to let Charlie in on a little secret. “I’m not letting myself believe that. It’s dangerous territory for me.”
Charlie cocks her head at me. “First off—interesting. Second, how so?”
“I’ve got a track record for falling for the wrong guy. Toxic, unavailable, uncommitted. And a recent rock-bottom relationship had me swearing off men for a while.”
I say the words I’ve been telling myself for months like a broken record no one—least of all me—cares to hear anymore. The words that seem foreign when the subject is Dallas.
Charlie hiccups, bringing her wine to her lips. “Boy, did you pick the wrong time to end that streak.”
I take a slow sip, the wine suddenly bitter. Because the truth is, I can press pause on this thing between Dallas and me all I want. But I know in my heart—he’snotthe wrong guy.
I’m not blinded this time. I’m not seeing something that isn’t there. I’m seeing something that’s so right, so good and so rich with everything I’ve been missing—that it hurts.
I’ve fallen for Dallas Thorne.
Painfully hard.
Not in that over-the-moon, scream-at-the-top-of-my-lungs kind of love.
But a raw, aching kind that makes you want to cry. A lonely kind.
Because as much as we both want all in, he’s emotionally charged with grief, loss, and fear of losing people he loves.
While I’m stirring with how deeply I’ve fallen. First for the girl, then this house, and now for the man.
I pour a glass of whiskey and head upstairs. My heart geared up to drop to my stomach if this goes sideways.
Dallas’s bedroom door is cracked open, a habit of his I’d noticed, so he can hear Ellie if she needs him.
I swallow and knock. He’s at the door in a matter of seconds, sleepy and sexy with his tousled hair, tanned skin. Boxers resting low at the hips.
He scans me. “What time is it?”
“Late.”
He eyes the whiskey. “Thought you girls were drinkin’ wine downstairs.”
“We were. This is for you.”
He inches closer, assessing me. “You all right?”
My eyes sting because I want to say no. But I nod. I nod because I am now. With the way he’s looking at me. Like he’d kill anyone who might’ve hurt me tonight.
He wraps a firm warm hand on my wrist and brings me inside. “Stay here.” Then he leaves me alone, walking across the hall to check on Ellie briefly.
I stare blindly at the dark room. The soft streaks of moonlight edging along the walls as they bleed through the window. Still no curtains. But just as warm and welcoming.
