Extraits

“Shouldn’t it be me who makes him stop crying?” The admission slipped from my lips before I could stop it. Guilt and shame clouded my voice. It should be me, shouldn’t it? Drake was mine.

“You are.” Knox paused in front of me, towering over me with my tiny son in his massive arms. “You let me in the door, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Maybe motherhood wasn’t always being the person your child leaned on, but finding the person they needed when you weren’t enough. For Drake’s sake, for him to get some rest, I’d set aside my pride and let Knox step in to help.

The woman who actually earned his strong arms for real hugs would be a lucky, lucky girl. I snuggled deeper into my blanket, curling my legs beneath me as I followed Knox’s every step.

She gave me a sad smile. “Do you think he loves me?”

“Look at him and you’ll get your answer.”

Because that little boy was staring at his mother like she’d hung the moon and stars. He chugged his bottle, resting in her arms without a care in the world.

She closed her eyes and nodded. Then she straightened, shaking off the sadness. “This is not your typical Montana-style home. Not that I’ve been to many. But it’s different than anything I’ve seen driving through town. It’s very modern.”

“If you’re looking for traditional country homes, you’ll have to visit my parents’ place. Or Griff and Winn’s.”

“This suits you. The clean lines. The windows. The moody atmosphere.”

“Are you saying I’m moody?”

She smiled wider, the biggest victory in my day. “Look in the mirror and you’ll get your answer.”

She didn’t even realize her beauty, did she?

“If it hurts. If it’s petrifying . . .” A crease formed between her eyebrows. “Why did you come to the loft? Why do you keep coming?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I can’t seem to stop.”

“Do you want to?”

I lifted my hand, tucking that stubborn lock of hair away once more. “No.”

“I want to not feel so alone. I want my kid to smile when I pick him up from daycare. I want Drake to have a normal life, and I feel like this is so far away from one, I can’t even see which direction to start walking. I want you to kiss me again. I want to never eat a peanut butter sandwich again. I want—”

Knox silenced me with his lips, banding one strong arm around my shoulders while the other lifted Drake’s car seat from my hand. His tongue dragged across my lower lip as his soft mouth pressed into mine.

Before I was ready for it to end, he pulled his lips from mine, but his arm stayed tight, pulling me to his chest. “There’s one want granted. What else do you want?”

I leaned into him and told him the terrifying truth. “You.”

Another woman with secrets.

I guess I did have a type.

“We’ll deal.” Knox took my hand. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal. Together.”

“The craziest days in the kitchen end with food on every surface. Those are the days when I walk out the door so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open on the drive home. Passion comes from the mess, Memphis.” He threaded his hands into my hair. “So does everything lasting.”

My frame sagged. “You deserve—”

“You.”

“I was going to say better.”

“No. I deserve you. Because I want you. And damn it, I earned you. All the shit I went through. The hell you endured. Who fucking cares if it’s messy?” He flicked a wrist around the room. “It’s exactly the way it should be.”

“She’s beautiful.”

I nodded. “She isn’t you.”

“Knox.” Her shoulders fell. “If you need time to talk, I can just go home. Stay in the loft tonight.”

“Memphis.” I hooked my finger beneath her chin, making sure she was locked on me as I repeated my sentence. “She isn’t you.”

She fell into me, her forehead crashing into my sternum. “I didn’t know if maybe you still wanted—”

“You.” I kissed her hair. “Only you.”

“Drake’s father isn’t a good man.”

I sat straight. “Did he hurt you?”

“Only my heart,” she whispered.

And for that, I’d hate the bastard for the rest of my days.