Because being this close to Titus, held tight and treated like I matter—like he cares… It’s making me think real problematic thoughts. The kind that have messed up my life over and over again. The kind I swore I wouldn’t think anymore.
I should have learned my lesson when Jeb turned out to be just another frog in the pond. Should have probably learned my lesson on the ten frogs before him, but the power of positive thinking definitely didn’t miss me.
Titus’s expression is filled with understanding, which is odd considering the topic of conversation. “I can imagine.” His gaze moves over my face and I could swear it seems to linger on my mouth for a heartbeat before jumping to meet mine. “Can I ask you a question?”
I guess he might as well. Keeping secrets obviously isn’t my strong suit. “Sure.”
Titus clears his throat, his hold on me loosening the tiniest bit. “The guy who did this…” Now his eyes are everywhere but my face, drifting around the room like he suddenly doesn’t want to look at me. “Is he still around?”
Shaking my head, I admit, “No.” I take a deep breath as shame burns my cheeks. “He pretty much vanished right after claiming the baby wasn’t his.”
His wayward focus narrows, snapping right back to my face. “So he just left you to handle this all on your own?” Titus’s voice is tight. Sharp. Like he’s angry for me.
And that does just as much for me as everything else about him. The man is way too appealing for my own good.
“Honestly, it’s probably better that way.” I try to reassure him with a smile. “My dad hung around for a little while out of obligation, but it would’ve been better if he’d just walked away from the beginning.”
Then maybe I wouldn’t be the way I am. I wouldn’t always smile to make everyone else comfortable. Go out of my way to please them. Be as happy as possible hoping the people I let close stick around.
I wouldn’t chase men who didn’t want me.
Just like always, I smile, still hoping it will make a man like me. “It’s fine. I’ll be okay.” I realize I have to qualify that a little differently now. “The baby and I will be okay.”
Titus is quiet for a minute before tipping his head in a slight nod. “I know you will.” He turns to the house again, eyes narrowing as he takes in the space around us. “I probably need to order cabinet locks and those little plastic things for all the outlets, don’t I?”
Again, my eyes burn, but I don’t want him to know how ridiculous I am, so I blink back the threat of tears, my smile turning genuine. “I think there’s plenty of time to figure out where the baby and I will live.”
Titus’s brows pinch, his left one moving much more naturally than his right. “You’ll live here. That’s part of your employment package.” Titus tips his head, like he’s thinking. “If you’re worried about the stairs, I’m sure I can have an addition put on the first floor?—”
The offer is so genuine, so real, that without thinking, I lift up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. No one has ever tried to give me what I need, let alone what I want. I hope Titus knows how much it means to me that he does. How much I appreciate that he pays attention and listens and cares.
Titus turns his head, bringing our faces close. “What was that for?” He sounds genuinely confused. Like he can’t fathom why I would be grateful to him.
“For thinking of me.” It’s a simple answer for a complicated set of emotions.
Titus’s hand comes up to my face, smoothing over my cheek in a reverent touch. “I always think of you.”
I sit perfectly still, barely able to breathe as Titus continues stroking my skin, the warmth of the connection gliding along my jaw before bracketing just beneath it. The pad of his thumb rests under my chin, exerting the tiniest bit of pressure.
Swallowing hard, I give in to it, tipping my head back. His breath is warm against my face as he studies me, almost looking perplexed. Like he’s not quite sure how we ended up here.
Then, in a movement so slow it’s almost painful, Titus closes the gap between us, meeting the firm line of his mouth to mine. The contact is barely a whisper of a touch. One that’s gone so fast I could probably convince myself it didn’t happen.
Not that I think I’ll be doing that. In fact, I expect to be replaying that split second over and over. Reading into it. Wondering what it meant. Imagining where it could lead.
Because it’s what I always do.
The thumb Titus has under my chin shifts, sliding up to brush across my lower lip. He watches the movement, focused in a way that makes it hard to breathe.
“I’m going to ask you something, Mariah, and I want you to tell me the truth.” His gaze lifts, lids heavy as it pins me in place. "Can you be honest with me?"
My head bobs in a nod, moving all on its own since every bit of brainpower I have goes into the whispered, yes, I manage to offer.
"Can I?—”
Whatever Titus is about to ask is cut off by the fucking doorbell. I swear to God, if he’s ordered more shit and it’s some delivery man interrupting what is the most oddly intense moment of my life, I'm not sure who I'll kill first. The delivery man.
Or Titus.
