Something about this man made me certain he didn’t fumble and rush. It might have been wishful thinking, but as I stared up into his chiseled face, I saw the desire I felt reflected in his eyes. I always believed in fate and things working out the way they were supposed to. He might have been the reason it didn’t work out with the other men.
He straightened, gave me one more lingering look, shook his head, then turned to the register to place his order. Or not.
Teagan getting engaged is messing with my mind. The poor man just wants a coffee.
I told my feet to move, but they didn’t. There was no comparison between him and any of the men I’d been with. Not in the looks department. Not in how he made my body hum with anticipation.
He ordered his coffee, then moved down the counter to the pickup area. His shoes were expensive, and his jeans looked as new as the blue oxford button-down shirt he was wearing. His attire reminded me of my niece Judy’s when she was attempting to blend in to a crowd. I wondered about his reason for being in my hometown.
The barista called out, “Gavin!” And the man stepped forward to get his drink.
Gavin. The name fit him. A strong name. One I could imagine calling out as I came. My cheeks warmed at the thought. Thank God mind reading isn’t a thing.
He turned. Our eyes met again, and he frowned. I should have looked away, but I couldn’t. In a heartbeat he was towering over me. “What’s your name?” he demanded.
Whoa. Straightforward. Almost impatient. Kind of sexy. “Riley.”
“Are you employed?”
It was my turn to frown. My employment status was a sore subject with me. Definitely not a subject I wanted to discuss with someone like him. “I’m currently between jobs.” It was true. I’d worked at Teagan’s printshop, but that job was quickly coming to an end as Teagan reshuffled her life to make room for Gian. Teagan not only believed I was now beyond having financial issues, but she also expected me to be headed off to college soon. Dominic had offered to pay for any school I chose, but I’d already accepted more from him than I was comfortable with.
Until recently, I had also been working part time as a paid bridesmaid. Yes, as I’d told my mom many times, “That’s a thing.” But I had natural lags between gigs. I didn’t advertise—brides contacted me, and when the work was there, it was quite profitable. Much like my love life, that career was experiencing a dry spell.
Gavin was looking me over again, and having his sustained attention was doing funny things to my ability to think straight. “Do you have friends?”
It was such an odd question that I laughed. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Rather than answering me, he simply held my gaze. “Single?”
Strange, but he was hot enough that I was willing to at least hear him out. “Yes.”
“Willing to sign a nondisclosure?”
“No.” Two months ago I would have been shocked at the request, but everyone who worked for Dominic signed one. Mr. Tuttle was no exception. Rich people were weird about stuff like that. He had to have money. Or I looked like someone who was seriously in need of a job. Or both.
I looked down. Sure, my jeans were worn, and my shirt was as well, but not because I didn’t have others. It just happened to be my favorite shirt. I always liked to take things slow with men, test things out before I brought out the cleavage.
I searched his face. He wasn’t looking at me like he was considering hiring me . . .
Unless it was for something on the kinky side. I didn’t walk on the wild side, but that didn’t make me less curious about if he did. “Why? What are you looking for?”
He shook his head and sighed. “Nothing that makes any damn sense.”
For just a moment, I thought he would say something more. He stood there, looking down at me like he wanted to, and I held my breath. No matter what he wanted, my answer would be no. Most likely. As we gazed into each other’s eyes, I sensed something in him—a yearning? Not in a sexual sense, although the air was charged with our mutual attraction. No, something was weighing on him, something he wasn’t sure how to handle.
I knew that feeling well.
I wished I knew what he was struggling with. Maybe, like me, all he needed was someone to talk to. I could be that for him.
My heart was beating wildly in my chest when he turned on his heel and began to walk away. I called out his name. “Gavin!”
He paused but didn’t turn back.
“I hope you find it—whatever it is you’re looking for.”
He continued walking with no acknowledgment that he’d heard me.
I made my way to the parking lot, where Mr. Tuttle was waiting for me. He opened the back door for me as I approached.
“Home, James,” I said.
“Benjamin,” Mr. Tuttle said as I slid into the back seat. “But I prefer Mr. Tuttle.” He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
As soon as he was inside the car as well, I said, “About earlier. I’m sorry.”
Our eyes met in the rearview mirror. “You’re a nice woman, but you have to be careful. We all do.”
I wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but he’d already looked away, and I didn’t want to add to the awkwardness of the night. “I will be.”
He cleared his throat. “Lockton or Back Bay?”
I slumped down in the seat. That was the big question, wasn’t it? I was straddling two worlds, trying to please the people in both. Eventually something would have to give. “My Lockton apartment, please.”
“Absolutely.”
As we pulled away from the curb, I turned to see if Gavin was outside the coffee shop watching me leave, but he wasn’t. What a strange man—gorgeous, but obviously troubled.
Look who’s talking.
I always considered myself a pretty stable person. Kal and I were raised by a mother who had always struggled with her health. It instilled in us both a strong sense of family as well as a good work ethic.
Life was never easy, but at least it made sense. Our mother lived in constant pain that past surgeries had promised to alleviate but hadn’t. Her newest doctor said he had a solution, but it was costly. Kal and I worked two, sometimes three jobs, with the goal of paying off her older medical bills so we could afford to sign on for more.
Gian’s appearance in my life and his declaration that I shared a biological parent with Dominic changed everything. It also opened a door to questions my mother had always discouraged us from asking. Who was our biological father? Why didn’t she want to talk about him? How had she hurt her back?
It wasn’t easy to hear that my biological father, Antonio Corisi, was the one who’d hurt my mother and that he was a married man when he did it. Although he was long dead, my mother was still dealing with the aftereffects of his abuse.
So much of what I’d thought I knew about my life had been a lie. I’d always thought my mother was a private woman, an introvert. To hear that it had been fear that had kept her in had shaken me. The more I learned about my father, the more I was relieved he was dead. I didn’t have hate in my heart for anyone, but I could have hated him.
When I asked her why she never went after Antonio legally, tears filled her eyes. “Some people,” she said with memories darkening her eyes, “are so rich they’re above the law. Promise me you’ll have nothing to do with the Corisis.”