Raging and growing and stirring.
“Don’t let him scare you. I know that’s simple for me to say, but I promise you . . . you don’t have anything to worry about. No judge would ever find in that bastard’s favor. And if you need me to sit up on that stand and claim it, as Evan’s doctor, I will.”
Fuck.
This was getting messy.
So damned messy.
Because all those lines were blurring and crossing and tangling.
A fresh round of tears streaked down her face. “Thank you, Kale, but I don’t know if I can ask you to get in the middle of this mess. It goes deeper than you know.” Grief and fear struck on her face. “When I told you my life was complicated, I meant it, but I refuse to regret a single choice I’ve made in my life that I’ve made to protect my son. No matter what it costs me”
“Maybe you should stop questioning the lengths I’d go to in order to protect the both of you.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” she whispered softly.
It was like a zap to the air.
Energy.
Need.
That tether of awareness cinching and cinching, pulling us closer until it felt like there was no space between us at all.
My fingers slipped into the silky strands of her hair.
I wanted to kiss her.
God, I wanted to kiss her so damned bad, and I knew if I did, there would be no going back.
I thought maybe she saw the hesitation in my eyes, because she cleared her throat and inched back to put some space between us.
“Let’s call it a night. The rest of these need to cool before they can be wrapped, and I need to get Evan into bed. He and I can finish them in the morning. I’ll drop them off to you so you don’t have to bother on Monday morning.”
I quirked a grin. “What, you don’t want to see me walking through your shop’s door on Monday morning. What if I’m having a terrible craving for A Drop of Hope?”
I let my voice twist with the tease, a distraction from the chaos staging a war in my spirit. The selfless war raging in her.
Heat rushed across her cheeks, and she peered at me, that vulnerable expression laying siege to her face.
Faith and belief.
The girl was so gorgeous that it was hard to look at her.
She let her fingertips roam the collar of my shirt, staring at the action before she met my gaze again.
Words a breathy confession. “Am I a fool to admit that the favorite part of my day is watching you walk through that door?”
“Think maybe both of us are guilty of that . . . being fools,” I told her, gentling my fingers through a long strand of her strawberry hair. Through the silky softness.
Relishing.
Wanting more.
Something darkened in her gaze, and I knew she was about to dive deeper than I was ready for her to go. That she was getting ready to ask me things I wasn’t ready to answer.
Because the girl could read me, too.
I edged back, hating being the asshole who shut her down after she’d just completely opened up to me. Trusted me.
But I wasn’t ready to bring the darkness that lived deep inside me out into her light.
“I should go,” I told her.
She nodded. “Okay. But please . . . let me bring the lollipops to you. It would make me feel better after everything you’ve done.”
For a moment, I just stared, blinking, assaulted by the urge to ask her to let me stay.
But I had to go. I knew it. I needed to get the hell out of there before I did something I couldn’t undo.
“All right then,” I told her, smiling slowly as I pushed to my feet.
I stretched my hand out for her, and she accepted it.
Need.
Just that small touch had need racing through my veins, careening and curving and compelling.
My jaw clenched, and I forced myself to let her hand go once she was standing.
Hope followed me down the hall. Her presence covering me all over. Skating my skin and spinning my head.
Intoxicating.
I tried to hold my breath because I swore this girl floated on the air.
So damned sweet.
I paused in the doorway to the living room, hesitated for a beat before I went for the couch.
Before she could stop me, before I could stop myself, I scooped the kid into my arms. He made a grumpy, grumbling sound as he looped his arms around my neck and snuggled closer.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Kale.” More fidgeting from beside me, Hope anxious and restless.
“Let me help you get him to bed,” I managed, no longer able to see how the lines holding me back made any sense.
Resigned, she nodded, and I followed her when she headed through another arch and down a separate hall that led to the back of the house. We passed by one small room that was set up as an office, and she turned into the last door at the end of the hall.