Page 20 of The Love Fix (The Sunrise Cove #8)

She took the shot, then sucked in a wheezy breath and held out the tumbler for more.

He poured another shot. “Don’t go too hard. I’m so tired, I’m not sure I can carry you home.”

With a snort, she tossed it back and then looked at him expectantly.

Right. She wanted to hear about him. He held out his hand for the glass and poured himself another.

“You’re stalling,” she said.

“I don’t stall.”

“No, apparently you just let people assume the worst of you.” She looked like she was mad at herself. And maybe him too, but

instead of saying so, she raised her eyebrows.

“I never said I didn’t work, you know. You just assumed.”

She sank to one of the two long workbenches lining the side walls. “And you let me.”

He dropped onto the opposite bench from her. “You know I was a trial attorney. I dealt with high-powered clients, brutally long hours, and all the soul-crunching stress that came with it. During that time, I had zero life. Hell, I barely managed to get a few hours of sleep a night.”

She hadn’t taken her eyes off his. “Something happened.”

He leaned back against the wall. “A few things, actually.”

She didn’t say anything, but her silence wasn’t cold. In fact, it felt the opposite. Even though she sat a good five feet

away, he could feel her genuine interest and care. “I started getting chest pains.”

She sucked in a breath.

“I thought it was just indigestion, so I took over-the-counter meds and ignored it. Until I couldn’t.” Hell, this was harder

than he’d thought. Besides Cole, he hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. “One day in the middle of a hellish eighty-hour workweek,

I collapsed in the middle of a big meeting with our most important clients, who’d flown in from all over the globe.”

“Oh my God, Heath.” She had a hand over her mouth. “A heart attack?”

“It felt like it. I’ve never experienced pain like that. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t so much as get up off the floor.” He

closed his eyes and shook his head. “Thought I was a dead man. But after an embarrassing ambulance ride and a barrage of medical

tests, it turned out to be an anxiety attack. The first of... well, many.”

“It must have been terrifying.”

He was startled to realize she’d come to sit at his side, turning on the bench to face him. Her hands reached for his, gently

squeezing. When he lifted his gaze to hers, he braced himself for pity, in which case, this story would be over.

But all he found was an understanding. A warm, easy understanding.

“What did you do?” she asked softly.

“I did everything that was suggested. I got meds, I got a therapist, but neither really helped. And then the perfect storm

came.” He drew a deep breath. “I’ve got a house not too far from here. I bought it my first year as an attorney, but I’ve

never spent any significant time in it. I was living and working in San Francisco. At least, until Cole had a health scare—much

worse than mine.”

Cole had been in remission for years at that point, but he’d found a swollen lymph node. It turned out to be nothing, thankfully...

He closed his eyes for a beat, remembering Misty’s and his own co-terror—that Cole’s childhood cancer had come back. “And

right on the heels of that, my grandpa fell in the shower and broke his hip. He couldn’t take care of himself, but we all

knew he’d wither and die in assisted living. Cole and Misty wanted to take him in, but he wanted to be here, in this house,

where he’d spent fifty-plus years with his wife, and I could hardly blame him for that. So...” He lifted a shoulder. “I

quit my job and came home. I’d hoped to talk him into living at my place, but you’ve met him. He’s stubborn as hell.”

Her eyes had warmed as he talked, but at his last sentence, she let out a low laugh. “Apple. Tree...”

A wry smile curved his mouth. “Yeah.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Being on the hamster wheel?” He shook his head. “No. My point is that for a while, I was exactly who you thought, a lazy

bum—”

“I didn’t think that—”

He gave her a look, and she bit her lower lip. “It had nothing to do with you, Heath. I wanted to hate you. I was a hot-as-hell

mess.” She paused. “Still am.”

She had the hot-as-hell part right. “You’re not a mess, not any more than the rest of us, anyway.”

She seemed amused by that notion.

“As for what I’m doing now...” He realized he was covered in sawdust and brushed a hand over his arms and chest, which

only dispelled some of it. He needed a shower. “Turns out, doing nothing wasn’t the answer either.”

“So you’ve been...” She lifted her gaze from his chest, looking a little dazed—flattering—and then she eyed the garage

around them. “Building stuff?”

He shrugged. “Back in high school and college, I worked as a laborer for a general contractor. Learned a lot, not the least

of which was that working with my hands fulfilled me more than anything had up to that point. But I was dead set on never

going back to being poor, so I went against my instincts and did the attorney thing. It wasn’t until I came back here that

I remembered how restoring and renovating old stuff into something beautiful again made me feel. It’s not lucrative,” he said

wryly. “But having worked myself half into the grave for years, with little to no free time, I’ve got enough money socked

away to live on.”

“Ashley has mentioned restoring old furniture.”

He nodded. “I got her into it. She comes over and uses my tools and this space whenever she likes.”

“That’s sweet of you.”

“She does plenty for me too, like watching my grandpa when I can’t.”

Lexi smiled. A real one, and he felt his shoulders slightly lower from his ears.

She had a way of lightening his load by just looking at him.

He knew all too well what was missing from his life.

Connections. Intimate connections. He also knew he could fall for Lexi, and fall hard.

They’d have a good time. Hell, a great time. And it would work.

Until it didn’t.

Because she was leaving. No if, ands, or buts about it. She was leaving as soon as she could.

Which was fine.

Absolutely fine.

And maybe if he kept repeating that to himself, he’d learn to accept it.

“So what happened after you came here?” she asked. “Did the panic attacks stop?”

“No.” He laughed roughly, and why he felt like tugging her close and burying his face in her hair, he had zero idea. Well,

other than she smelled amazing, and he thought he might find his own little slice of that heaven if he leaned forward and

fell into her arms. “I felt like I was drowning. Dying. But it was Daisy who told me it was okay to fall apart sometimes.

She said s’mores fall apart, and we still love them.”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “True. But a panic attack isn’t nearly as much fun as a s’more.”

“You know what they’re like,” he said quietly. “Anxiety attacks. Firsthand.”

“Oh yeah. In fact, I had no less than two on the plane here. And then another when I realized I was going to stay for six

weeks.”

“I’m sorry.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I know how bad they suck, how helpless

you feel.”

“Helpless, and furious,” she agreed. “But mine don’t manifest externally, like yours.

They’re all internal. If you didn’t know what to look for, I don’t think you’d be able to tell I was having one.

” Her mouth twisted in a grim smile. “I’m good at pretending.

Really good.” She knocked her shoulder into his.

“Seems like we’re both pretty good at hiding behind the person we want the world

to see.”

“Or maybe it’s just that if you keep up the pretense for long enough, you become that person.”

She nodded and turned away, but not before he caught a flash of tears. “Lex,” he said softly, pained.

Her shoulders had bowed inward a little. “Ignore me.”

As if that were even possible. Gently, slowly, he pulled her into him. “You don’t have to hide. Not here. Not with me.”

“I hurt people with my pretending,” she whispered into his chest.

He lifted her face. “If you’re talking about Ashley, she’s good. She’s just happy you’re here now.”

Her gaze turned earnest. She wanted to believe him, believe she and Ashley would be okay, and he was again struck by how he’d

misjudged her aloofness. She cared. She cared deeply, even if she didn’t always show it. He knew it drove Ashley crazy that

Lexi called her mom Daisy, and not Mom. But Lexi hadn’t gotten the same Daisy as Ashley had. Her life had been hard, unfamiliar,

and cruel.

And Daisy had let it happen. Granted, she’d had serious issues, but all that ten-year-old Lexi had understood was that her

mom hadn’t fought to keep her.

Heath remembered enough about his own beautiful, wonderful mom to know that he’d have been devastated beyond consolation if

she hadn’t fought for him.

Lexi pulled free and got to her feet to leave. She was so fast, he barely managed to catch her at the door. “Lex?”

“I should get back.”

He turned her to face him, her spine pressed into the door. “What just happened?” he asked.

Her eyes slid closed. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

“I absolutely do not feel sorry for you. I mean, I’d like to go back in time and hurt anyone who hurt you, but that’s not

pity. That’s just me understanding how a sucky past can shape the here and now. You deserved better.” He paused. “Daisy broke

your heart.”

She gave a little shrug, like it no longer mattered, but he knew it did.

“It happened again with the men in your life,” he said.

Her gaze flickered away. A confirmation. And he knew right then and there that he wouldn’t ever risk doing the same.

“I really should go,” she said softly, her eyes telling him that if he said stay , if he took her hand and pulled her into him again, she’d meet him halfway.

But he couldn’t do that, not to her. “I’ll walk you,” he managed to say.

Surprise hit her, then a flash of embarrassment. “No, it’s okay.” She shook her head. “I’m good.” And then she slipped out

the door as quickly as she’d slipped past his inner walls, the darkness swallowing her up.

Hating himself, he stepped out into the chilly night, quietly following to make sure she got inside safely, before going back

to his cold bed, alone with his regrets.