Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(77)

My brow pinched.

Not what I was expecting.

Fury blackened his expression, rage bustling beneath the surface of his skin. “Found my truck busted up that afternoon. A slur spray-painted on the side of it. Think I’m being targeted.”

I whirled around to face him.

“You think whoever hurt you that night was responsible?”

They knew where he lived?

Terror raced.

Taking over.

The thought of something horrible happening to him more than I could process.

His hands curled into fists. “Don’t know for sure, we’re still waiting on the prints, but my gut says yes. Could just as easily be some neighborhood kid playing a prank. But I won’t take the chance. Won’t let my guard down.”

He inched forward. “Need you to know what’s happening before you walk through that door. What being around someone like me means. Last thing I ever wanted was to drag you into my mess. Never wanted this for anyone. And when it comes to you, I don’t know how to stop myself.”

There was his fear again.

Though, in that moment, I was feeling it, too.

Fear for him.

For the life he led.

The danger he faced at every turn.

Respect seeped from my pores. Respect for the decision he’d made to turn his back on the path he’d been slipping down when he’d been getting caught up in the ugliness.

But I had to wonder if he were doing it for the right reasons.

“I’m not afraid for me, Maxon. I’m afraid of you racin’ toward danger just because you think that’s what you deserve. That you have to pay a price. Prove who you are. I think that’s pretty clear.”

What was I sayin? Did I mean it? Could I look at him and see who he truly was.

But I was sure that I always had. I hadn’t been the one who was blinded. It was Maxon who’d gotten lost.

“That’s because you were the good in my world. The light that chased out the dark. You never wanted to acknowledge what was hidden underneath.”

There was a warning in the rumble of his words, and I turned my attention away, needing a breath.

Not sure how we were ever gonna meet in the middle.

If he’d ever get over his past. If I could ever forgive him for living it.

Where did that leave us?

He blew out a sigh. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

I cast him a soft smile, unable to stop myself. “We’d better. The boys are probably raiding the refrigerator by now.”

I took the hand he extended. Heat sizzled up my arm at the contact.

I didn’t know whether to chastise myself for thinking it felt so right.

He ushered me inside, and Benjamin was on the floor in front of a console with a huge TV sitting on top of it, pulling out a video gaming system.

“Maxon said we could play, Mom! He’s got Mario Cart. It’s the coolest game in the world. You want to play with us?” Dillon shouted.

I glanced at Maxon. Feeling out of sorts. Wondering how I was supposed to fit into the shape of his world.

He nudged me. “Go on, sit down, relax. I’ll start dinner.”

“You don’t have to take care of me.” Another defense.

He inched closer, his breath a warm caress across my face. “Let me. I want to.”

For a moment, I hesitated, and then I gave, toeing off my shoes and settling on the couch.

Tucking my knees to my chest, I tried to pay attention to the boys who started playing a video game.

But my attention kept getting caught up on the man in the kitchen, his big, powerful body adept there, too.

Dicing the vegetables, tossing them in the heating oil, the scent of garlic and onion rising to the air.

His face intense yet at peace.

Shoulders rigid but demeanor welcoming.

I found myself standing, drawn, the way I’d always been, moving that way.

Energy washed, a lap across my bare feet, throat getting wobbly as I edged up to his side and leaned my hip up on the counter beside where he worked.

“Miss me?” He lifted a brow, half his attention on me and the other on the food he was prepping.

A light giggle escaped.

Talk about a shift in the mood. But I loved that about him. The lightness he could wear when the heaviness threatened to pull us under.

“Not even for a second,” I teased right back. “I just came over here to make sure you knew what you were doing. Wouldn’t want your cooking to make my kids sick or anything.”

Something coy played all over that sexy mouth, dimple denting at the side. I had the stupid, reckless urge to reach out and taste it.

There was that fork. Coming up faster.

“Huh. I would have sworn your heart just started beating harder. You sure it’s not something else that has you coming this way?”

“Nervous about the food,” I retorted, though my words were getting low and wispy. I blinked through the haze of need that was suddenly clouding the air.

I cleared my throat. “Who knew you could cook. That smells delicious.”

“All kinds of things you don’t know about me.” He winked.

Okay, so that was kind of what I was worried about. The unknowns. Who he’d become. Was he different than this beautiful surface that he was showin’ me?

He tossed in some strips of chicken. “I hope you like stir fry. Easy and fast.”