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Excitement and anticipation built to a crescendo as the waitress rushed back over with the wine. Harlow confiscated the bottle and shooed her away. As soon as she and Beck were alone, she let the red gush into the glasses and decided to start with easy questions to warm him up a bit.

“What’s your favorite color?”

He kissed the top of her eyelid. “Since meeting you? Ocean-water blue.”

I may be putting out, after all. “Favorite food.”

“You.”

Heat spilled over her cheeks. “Beck.”

“What? I said I’d be honest.”

“Then you should have gone with pie.”

“Baby, you’re sweeter than pie, and that’s a fact.”

Moving on, before she took his mouth with her own. “What’s your favorite memory?”

“Being inside you.” He swirled his wine before tossing it back.

“One-track mind,” she said, and tsk-tsked. Also a dangerously bone-melting answer, just not the kind of info she was looking for. “Worst memory. And if you say losing me, I will probably kiss you, and then I will definitely slap you.”

“A warning like that is also known as encouragement,” he said with a wink. But he set his glass aside and drained hers.

“The memory’s that bad, huh?”

When his fingers laced with hers, she felt a tremor flow through him.

“Beck,” she said. “Whatever it is, I won’t judge you, I promise.”

His lips lifted in a humorless smile. He leaned into her, saying quietly, “I’m sure you heard the rumors about Jase. He went to prison for beating a guy to death when we were eighteen...but here’s what you don’t know. I was with him when it happened. I was part of it.”

The pronouncement didn’t exactly shock her, but it did give her pause. Sweet, flirtatious, helpful Beck had beaten a guy to death? “Why? I mean I heard Jase defended a girl’s honor.”

“He did. We all did. We had a friend. Tessa. Jase and I loved her like a sister. West loved her. One night she went to a party, and a guy assaulted her.”

Harlow’s scars began to ache in sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”

“We went after the guy, beat him and just didn’t stop. He died from his injuries. Jase took full responsibility. Nine years behind bars. I could have come forward at any time to alleviate his burden, but never did.”

“Why?”

“The three of us, we’ve always lived by a code—do whatever’s asked by the others, no questions. For the longest time, we had no one to rely on but each other. We each knew loss and regret and needed someone we could count on no matter what.”

Her mother had been the one she counted on, supporting her through the worst of times. She understood the need.

“You suffered your own punishment, I’m sure. Violence of any kind leaves a mark, whether on the skin or in the soul.”

Beck squeezed her hand, almost hard enough to bruise. “What you endured hurts me in a way I never imagined possible. You did not deserve what was done to you.”

The waitress arrived with their dinner, piping-hot bowls of chicken and dumplings. Delightful scents combined with perfect harmony: bread yeast, sweet vegetables and the cream in the sauce.

“Is what I did a deal breaker?” Beck asked as soon as the girl was out of earshot.

Was it? He’d committed the crime as a teenager. Eighteen, old enough to know better. But what if he held her crimes against her? She hadn’t killed anyone physically, but she’d certainly killed a few spirits.

“No,” she said and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Eat, Harlow. Please.” He caressed her cheek. “You’ve lost weight.”

Weight she couldn’t afford to lose. She took a bite, then another, then paused as she recalled the clock on their conversation. “You still wrestle with guilt over the crime,” she said, a statement, not a question. “And over Jase. Right?”

“Yes.”

Learning about his past was helping her connect the dots to his present—and his future. Maybe he didn’t think he deserved a happily-ever-after.

“Do you—” He pushed her bowl closer to her, and she took another bite before finishing her question. “Do you think you’ll ever get married?”

“There was a time I would have said no. Now? I won’t rule out the possibility.”

It was progress. More than she’d dreamed, considering he hoped to protect a fragile heart that had been battered and bruised countless times as he was taken from foster homes he’d come to love. As Jase was taken from him, and he couldn’t allow himself to help.

“Do you want kids?” When she’d imagined herself married to Prince Charming, she’d also imagined a brood of rug rats.

But if she didn’t end up with the right man, that dream family would simply fall apart, wouldn’t it?

“I never wanted kids with a one-night stand, but again, I won’t rule out the possibility any longer.” He arched a brow. “Deal breaker?”

“No.” As much has she loved him, she wasn’t sure anything would be a deal breaker.

He smiled at her.

She swallowed the last bite of her meal and opened her mouth to ask her next question.

“Sorry, baby, but it’s too late. You’re done eating. It’s my turn now.”

Well, crap. She should have eaten slower. “Ask your one question,” she said.


Tags: Gena Showalter The Original Heartbreakers Romance