Page 52 of Herding Cat

He shrugged. “I didn’t turn out like my dad.”

“Would that have been a bad thing?” She could tell from his tone he thought it would have been, but she wanted—needed—to know more about him.

He held her gaze as he responded. “My dad was abusive. My mom was an addict. Before social services came to take me away, I remember praying I didn’t become like them.”

“So have you ever wanted children?” She wasn’t sure where she got the courage to ask, point-blank, but she needed to know.

He blew out a sigh. “I’ve never even thought of having a family.” Her heart tumbled. “At least, not until, well, this week.”

“This week?”

“With you, and Mae. It made me realize—”

He paused for so long her lungs locked. “What?”

He looked away and she suspected it was because the feelings were too raw. “It’s what I’ve always wanted, but didn’t dare contemplate.”

“Why?”

His shoulder lifted. “I guess I thought it was beyond my reach.”

“Is it beyond your reach now?”

He looked at her; his gaze burned through. Seconds ticked away in an echoing silence. “I don’t know,” he said. “Is it?”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you.” He swallowed. “And me.”

Something there in his expression, a yearning that echoed deep in her soul, overwhelmed her. “Are you suggesting we make this...more than a fling?”

His head bobbed. He studied her warily. “I believe I am. If that’s what you want.”

She frowned at him. She had to. “This can’t be love.” It needed to be said, if only so she could convince herself.

“Can’t it?”

“It happened too fast.”

“It did, but damn it, Cat, I can’t visualize a world without you in it. When I thought I’d lost you, I wanted to curl up and die. I didn’t want to do it. Didn’t want to face another day without you in my life. Will we be perfect for each other? Probably not. I don’t know if such a thing exists—”

“What do you mean, perfect for each other?” She had no idea why she interrupted him. He was probably right. She was ten years older than he was and—

“You’re rich and I’m...well, I’m not.”

She gaped at him. “What the hell does that have to do with anything? Wealth doesn’t define us.”

“As much as our ages define us.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. For some reason, he smiled.

“Is this our first fight?” He said in a curious—and amused—tone.

“You are a dingleberry.”