I huffed out a deep breath.
“Let me ask you this, have you ever been in a long-term relationship?” I asked.
He thought for a moment. “Not long term, no. I’ve never really wanted the commitment. ”
“And the only relationship I’ve had was with a loser who made me the other woman for two years.” I sighed. “This would never work because you don’t do commitment and I won’t ever let myself be vulnerable again.”
He frowned and picked at the label on his beer bottle.
“Okay, then,” he finally said, lifting that vibrant blue gaze to me. “We’ll reset our relationship. Dial it back and start over.”
“You mean as friends?”
“Friends who are having a baby.”
“And no sex?”
“Not by choice.” He gave me a raised eyebrow. “But yes, no sex. Just friends. Let’s start again. Take it from there.”
I smiled across at him and when he smiled back I wondered if our baby would have the same captivating dimpled grin. I looked away because that smile was too enticing, and picked at a loose piece of mozzarella on my plate.
When I looked up, he was looking at me. “What?”
His bright blue eyes glittered across the table. “I just realized how very little I know about you.”
“Likewise.”
“And it seems crazy because now we’re going to have a baby.”
“What do you want to know? Ask me anything.”
He thought for a moment, and I was struck by how handsome he was in the mood lighting of the restaurant.
“Okay, where were you born?” he asked.
“Vegas,” I answered. “You?”
“Right here in Destiny. What’s your birthdate?”
“July 30.”
“You’re kidding. I’m July 31.”
“So we’re two Leo’s. See, it would never work between us.”
“No?” he asked.
“Passionate and fiery. We’d never get out of the bedroom.”
“Sounds pretty perfect to me.” He grinned and desire swept through me.
My smile faded. How the hell was I going to keep things platonic when all I wanted to do was climb onto his lap?
“Tell me something about yourself that will surprise me,” I said.
“Like?”
“Like . . . I don’t know . . . have you ever been to prison?”
He paused and then shifted in the red vinyl booth, his attention dropping to the beer bottle in front of him. “Yes.”
A strange tingle took up in the pit of my stomach. By the look on his face, he wasn’t joking.
“Really?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. The comment had been flippant. I didn’t expect him to say yes.
“I got two years for assault and served eight months.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t be sorry. I own what I did. And I would do it again.”
I wanted to ask him why he was sent to prison but didn’t want to make the situation any more awkward. Thankfully, he decided to share it with me anyway.
“I was in my second year of college. I was at a party when a douchebag by the name of Jesper Mitchell raped a friend of mine while she was passed out in a bed upstairs. I walked in on him raping her. She was out cold. He told me I’d have to wait my turn. He started swinging at me when I hauled him off her. So I swung back. I swung back until he was unconscious.”
“And you did time for that?”
“No, those charges were dropped. It was when I defended myself against the police officer who turned up afterwards. He was Mitchell’s uncle. He roughed me up, so I fought back. Unfortunately, the whole thing coincided with a ‘more respect for the law’ campaign being run by the local government. So the judge threw the book at me, and I got two years for breaking the jaw of a police officer.”
“What happened to the man who raped your friend?”
“Nothing.” Caleb’s jaw ticked. “Not a goddamn thing. The investigation was a mess from the start. I was the only witness and I was a violent criminal, apparently. So it became a case of he said, he said. In the end, the judge threw it out of court for lack of evidence.”
I shook my head. Sometimes the law didn’t make any sense.
When I was in college, a similar thing happened to a classmate of mine at an off-campus party. She woke up to one of the football stars raping her. When she’d made an official complaint, the school and the student body wrapped themselves around the sports hero who was in school on a scholarship. He became the victim and she was ostracized. The police investigation was brutal for her and ended nowhere. She left college four months later and returned home to Iowa. A year later, the football player did it again. When the newest victim reached out to her, they joined forces and together they ensured he got what he deserved. He went to prison and they moved on with their lives.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” I said quietly.