Page 26

The vehemence in his voice takes me by surprise. Where is the tender lover? The man who was so conscientious about my tastes, enough to take me to the kind of bookstore he knew I’d love?
I scan his features again, take in that gaze fixed on something other than me, and shake my head in frustration. “Just tell me what you’re feeling. I can help.”
“You can. By leaving.” He folds his arms across his chest.
I stiffen, feeling like he just slapped me. But I’m also aware that he’s hurting inside. Which is why he’s lashing out at me. I take a step forward, and another, until I reach him. Standing in front of him, I realize, again, how big this man is. How massive, how immovable. The heat leaping off his body could power the electric supply of a city; that’s how intense it seems.
Pushing aside my nervousness, I place my hand on his forearm. It feels like I’m touching a wall. “Tyler, you can’t push me off like that. I need to know what’s brought about this… Sudden change in attitude.”
For a few seconds, we stand there, him looking off into the distance, and me taking in his gorgeous face.
“You told me you wanted me. You said… I’d regret it if I didn’t come home with you. You told me to take a chance on us?—”
“And that was before. Things change.”
He sounds so firm. So confident. And his features are so emotionless, I almost believe him.
“You wanted us to get to know each other better. You were so sweet to me. So caring?—”
“None of that was faked,” he admits. “I wanted you. I felt something for you. It felt monumental when we met?—”
Oh God, he’s talking about us in the past tense.Like what we have is over before it’s even begun. My heart beats with such force, I can barely hear my own thoughts. I draw in a sharp breath, calm myself, then tip up my chin.
Something shifts in him—subtle but unmistakable. He seems to wrestle with whatever’s going through his head, jaw tight, shoulders tense. When he finally speaks, his voice is lower, heavier.
“But as you can imagine, I’ve got a lot to deal with—” He gestures toward the child. “I need to figure out what comes next. It’s not unreasonable for me to ask for a little space…is it?”
“Of course not. Your entire life has been turned upside down. Until yesterday, you were a single man, living life on your terms. Today, you need to figure out what your relationship to this child is. It’s not easy.”
His beautiful throat moves as he swallows. A nerve tics at his temple. He looks both remote and confused. Both standoffish and in need of reassurance. But the look in his eyes—it’s one of determination.
“Look Priscilla, I meant what I said then. But that was before”—he waves a hand in the air—“before all this. I need to figure things out. Need to track down the person who left that…kid here. Need to find out if there's any truth to the claim in the letter. Which means, I won’t have time to think about anything else. Not even you.”
Of course, I know that. “The child takes priority. That’s the right thing.” I nod. “It’s what I’d have done in your position.” Still, I can’t stop my stomach from sinking. To have met the man who I thought was my future, only to have him ask me to leave less than twenty-four hours later is…unexpected.
Some of my misery must show on my face, for the skin around his eyes softens. “I need to figure out what to do. There’s a lot I need to resolve. I need space to think about what to do next, Priscilla.”
He called me Priscilla. Not Cilla, butPriscilla. That convinces me how much things have changed between us. And the fact that he needs space? It’s completely different from what he told me when he asked me to come home with him. When he implied that he wanted me in his life.
“This is not how I’d have wanted to part, but perhaps, it’s for the best. Perhaps, our timing is off just now. Perhaps”—he shifts his weight between his feet—“perhaps, when things settle down…” He trails off. A muscle moves at his jaw. His lips firm. Those gorgeous, mismatched eyes grow remote in a way that sends chills down my spine.
He’s asking me to leave. Oh, he’s implying that he might call me when things settle down, but will he? Does this mean he still wants me? He’s implying he just needs time, and there’s no reason not to believe him, right?
A message pings on his phone. He glances down at it, then back at me. “The car’s here.”
“So that’s it, huh?” I attempt a smile and fail.
He holds my gaze with a depth that makes my breath catch. The ice in his eyes, melts. For a few seconds, I see something flash in them. Something poignant. Something which has hope bubbling up in my chest. Then it’s gone. That mask is back on his face. The one that makes him seem so completely different from the vital, caring man I was sure I’d met. The man I’m sure he still is.
“Perhaps, the emotional punch of having a baby delivered at your doorstep is making you act like this. But it would be a lot easier for me to understand if you’d try to explain your thinking to me.” I square my shoulders, jutting out my chin. “I want to give you the benefit of the doubt… But honestly, I’m not sure what to think anymore.”
For a few more seconds, our gazes hold. He curls his fingers into fists at his sides. Once again, he seems on the verge of saying something. Only he doesn’t. He flattens his lips and ensures there’s no expression on his face. Then he pivots and walks out of the room.
What the hell just happened?My head spins, trying to make sense of everything. A headache drums against my temples. I pull myself together, stepping into my flats, which he dropped by the side of the bed, scan the room to make sure I'm not forgetting anything. Consider leaving something… Then, turn and hurry after him.
I reach the living room to find he’s holding up my purse.That’s how quickly he wants me gone?
As if in a dream, I approach him and take my handbag from him. It all began with this bag… And it looks like it's going to end with it, too.