Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
He nodded, wariness in his dark eyes.
“Do you remember what you said?”
Awareness dawned in his expression, and she noted the exact moment when he recalled his statement.
“I said no hearts involved.” His voice sounded scratchy and rough.
Good, since those words were like sandpaper on her already bruised heart. “I knew if I was going to let myself get involved with you, I’d have to keep up my walls. But you’re an intense guy, and what’s between us is too.”
He let out a harsh laugh. “Tell me about it,” he muttered.
She smiled. “Yeah. Those walls crumble pretty quickly when you’re around. The thing is, if I’m going to survive you leaving—whenever that is—I have to keep living my life without relying on you.”
“And letting me know what’s going on with you is relying on me too much?” He spread his hands wide, not getting it.
“That’s right. It is.” Already the condo that had always felt like home seemed emptier when he wasn’t here. “I can’t let myself get used to calling you and sharing the little things when soon enough you’ll be gone, and I’ll be on my own again.” Just the thought had her shivering.
“Jesus. Is it really that easy for you?” he asked as if he were the wounded party.
“Are you kidding? Nothing about being with you is easy!” She’d give him her heart on a platter if he asked, but he hadn’t. He wouldn’t. And the pain that would slice through would be sharp enough without adding to it by knowingly letting him in.
He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her tight. “Join the club, baby.”
She managed a laugh at his use of their word and laid her head against his chest with a sigh. He smelled good, his musky warm scent sending her senses reeling.
“I still wish you’d called me,” he said, his lips against her hair.
“And I wish I didn’t care about you so much, but we don’t always get what we want.” She turned and started to walk away, to give herself much-needed space and distance.
Not because she was angry or upset but because she wanted to jump into his arms and lose herself in everything that was Mike. And losing herself wasn’t something she could afford to do. She thought of her mother, giving up her sense of self for a man who couldn’t give her what she needed. Mike wasn’t abusive like Cara’s father, but he couldn’t give her what she deserved either.
“Cara.” He grabbed her arm and spun her back to face him, the pain on his face indicating he wasn’t happy about their situation. “I feel more too.” He stroked a hand across her cheek.
“But it doesn’t change anything, does it?”
He winced, and she had her answer. Just because she’d expected it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. “I’m starving,” she said, focusing on something she could control. “I’m going to heat some lasagna. Want some?”
He shook his head. “I ate at my parents’.”
“Fine. More for me.” Without waiting for his reply, Cara headed toward the kitchen.
* * *
Mike watched Cara go. Her bare feet stuck out of her oversized navy Serendipity PD sweatpants, her bare waist peeking beneath her cropped top, her ponytail swishing against her back. She’d never looked more appealing. Mike groaned and followed her.
She had so many valid points, but he didn’t know where to begin. Did his feelings for her change anything about his future intentions? The truth was, he didn’t know. Everything about his return to Serendipity was unexpected, from the overwhelming depth of feelings he had for this woman to the lack of desperation to leave. But Simon was feeling stronger, and he would come back as chief, which would put Mike out of a job.
Could he stay in Serendipity as a detective or cop? Did he even want to? He didn’t know, and until he did, he wouldn’t give her false hope.
He waited until she’d put her dinner in the microwave before capturing her between his body and the kitchen counter. She studied him in silence with too-wise blue eyes.
“Know what I like most about you?” she asked.
The question surprised him. “My good looks?” he quipped.
She slipped her hands around his waist. “Other than that.”
“My charm?”
She managed a laugh. “Besides that—you’ve always been up front with me. Knowing where I stand makes whatever happens more bearable.”
He smiled at the compliment. One that somehow, deep inside, didn’t make him feel very good about himself at all.
Mike stayed while she ate dinner. He asked if she wanted to talk about Daniella or her situation, but she said no, she’d done enough of that all day. So they discussed things like the state of the computer system at the station and Annie and Joe’s upcoming wedding. Mike watched an episode of Law & Order, which she loved and he found ridiculous, so he focused on her devouring half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s instead. Her lips wrapped around the spoon as she slowly savored the ice cream, licking the treat with her tongue and moaning with each chunk of cookie dough she found in the tub.