“But nothing was done to me.”
“Sure it was. Maybe not the same way it was done to me, but you’re going through your own hell right now. Own it, man. Accept it. Only then can you begin to get over it.”
I shook my head, chuckling softly. “You’re something. You really are.”
“I’m just a guy. My past doesn’t define me. My father doesn’t define me. And your father doesn’t define you.”
I smiled. “Melanie must be a hell of a therapist.”
“She is. And she’s an even better sister-in-law. She’s the best.”
“Maybe I’ll talk to her.”
“She’d be happy to help. Or if you’re uncomfortable with her, she can refer you to someone else.”
Therapy. We were getting a little off the subject, and I was feeling more than uncomfortable. Talon Steel was everyone’s hero. I was a self-absorbed douchebag.
Big-time.
I stood, swallowing the last of my bourbon. “Okay. You guys are really generous. I’ll hear you out. Just call me and let me know when the three of you want to get together. I should probably be going.”
“You sure? We can have another drink. Catch up on other stuff.”
What other stuff? Ruminating about my father had been my life for the past couple months. Hell, I wasn’t even being a father to Henry. I’d told myself on more than one occasion that I was laying off for my mom’s sake, that she needed to focus on Henry right now. That was all true, but there was more to the truth.
I was feeling unworthy. Unworthy of being a father. What if I went crazy and turned out like my old man?
No way would I put my little boy in danger.
No fucking way.
I raked my fingers through my hair.
Fuck.
“Another time. Let me know when you guys want to talk.” I set the glass down on Talon’s desk and walked out of the office.
When I walked past the kitchen, Marjorie had her back to me and was loading the dishwasher. Her dark hair fell in long waves nearly to her perfect ass. Her skinny jeans accented her long and shapely legs. God, those legs… They went on forever. How I’d love to have them around my neck as I pumped into her perfect body…
Damn. I needed to get out of here.
I was in no condition to begin a relationship, and neither was she.
We could have a fuckfest, but Marjorie Steel wasn’t the one-night-stand type. Instinctively I knew that. Plus, Joe and I had been friends for over thirty years. I couldn’t risk a one-nighter with his baby sister.
I reached toward the doorknob—
“Bryce!” Footsteps sounded behind me.
I turned. Marjorie’s big brown eyes seared me. So beautiful. And that body. And those hands. I chuckled. She was wearing rubber gloves, the long yellow kind that my mom used to use while cleaning toilets when I was a kid.
“What’s so funny?”
“Sorry. The rubber gloves.”
“I just got a manicure yesterday.” She cringed a little. “Crap. That sounded so Steel ranch heiress, didn’t it?”
“My mom gets manicures sometimes, and she’s sure no heiress.”