Heartless: A Small Town Single Dad Romance(105)

Springs. I decide on the spot to drive out to my place in the country tonight rather than spend another night breathing the same air as Sterling Woodcock.

“How does he know him?”

Her eyes meet mine. “Sterling’s dad is a new business partner of his. He’s focused on making new connections now that he’s back in the city.”

“And you’ve known this guy for how long again?”

Her tongue darts out from between her lips. “We met in May.”

“Five months?” My brow arches and I rear back. If they seemed madly in love I could buy it, but . . .

“Don’t judge me, Jasper!” Her eyes flash and she steps closer again. I may dwarf her in height, but she’s not the least bit intimidated. She’s spitting mad right now. Mad at me. But I think that’s just because she trusts me enough to let her anger out, and I’m okay with letting her. I’m happy to be that person for her.

Her voice shakes when she adds, “You have no idea the pressures I live with.”

Without thinking twice, I pull her into my chest and wrap my arms around her narrow shoulders.

She’s all tense and riled. I swear I can almost feel her vibrating with it. “I’m not judging you, Sunny.”

Apparently, this isn’t the time for childhood nicknames.

“Don’t call me that.” Her voice cracks as she presses her forehead to my chest, like she always has, and I slide my palm down the back of her hair, cupping the base of her skull.

Like I always have.

I absently wonder what Sterling would say if he walked out here right now. There’s a petty part of me that wants him to.

“I’m just curious how things happened so fast. I’m curious why I’ve never met him until now.” My voice is quiet, all gravel, almost drowned out by the hush of cars rushing past us.

“Well, it’s not like I have a lot of free time with the ballet. And it’s not like you’ve been in touch lately either.”

Guilt nips at me, making my chest twist. Our team came off a bad season, and I promised myself I’d train harder than I ever have during the off-season. “I was training and living out in Chestnut Springs.” That’s not a lie. My brother’s fiancé opened a hell of a gym there, and I saw no reason to spend my summer in the city. “And then it was training camp, and I got swept up.”

Also true.

The lie is that I was too busy to make time for her. I could have made time for her. But I didn’t.

Because I knew her dad was back in the city, and I avoid him at all costs.

“I should have told you,” she murmurs.

I swoop a hand over her head and give her shoulders a squeeze, still trying to avoid that warm, bare patch of skin on her back, and reply with, “I should have asked. I’ve just been . . . busy. I didn’t think your life would just . . . happen this fast.” And that part is true. Her engagement blindsided me.

Her body relaxes in my arms, soft breasts pressing against my ribs as her fingers dig into my back.

But only for a moment before she pulls away. The hug went on long enough that it was more of an embrace. It was toeing the line.

But I still find myself wanting to pull her back in.

“Well, it is.” She looks down and brushes at the sleeve of her pale green dress, silky and shimmering in the dark light. “My dad and I agreed it was best to move forward with the wedding in the fall rather than drawing it out.”

That comment has my teeth clamping down, because the mere mention of Robert Winthrop sets me



on edge. And him taking part in her decision to get married has all sorts of alarm bells going off.

“Why?” My brow knits. I should know better. I should walk away. I should let her be happy.

I shouldn’t be this bothered. Maybe if she actually seemed happy. I wouldn’t be.

Or maybe I would.

She waves a hand and glances over her shoulder into the restaurant, exposing her elegant neck as she does. “Multiple factors,” she replies with a defeated shrug. It’s like she knows her time with me is dwindling. I don’t get the sense that Sterling is going to be the type of husband that’s okay with her and I being friends.

“Factors? Like you just can’t wait to be Mrs. Woodcock? Because no one wants that as a last name. Or is this your dad pressuring you?”

Her blue eyes flare at the mention of her dad, because Sloane doesn’t see him as a snake. Never has. She’s too busy being the perfect daughter—and now fiancée. One who looks good on paper and doesn’t go hunting. “And what if he is? I’m twenty-eight. My best dancing years are drawing to a close. I need to settle down, come up with a life plan. He’s looking out for me.”

I huff out an agitated laugh and shake my head at her. Where’s the wild girl I remember? The girl who danced in the rain and would crawl onto the roof so I didn’t have to be alone on the bad nights?

That girl has been molded into a pawn. And I hate that for her. We’ve never fought, but suddenly my urge to fight for her consumes my better judgement.

“Your dad is an asshole. He cares about himself. His business. Optics. Not your happiness.”

She lurches back like I’ve struck her, lips thinning in anger as she flushes all the way down her chest. “No, Jasper. Your dad is as an asshole. Mine loves me. You just don’t know what that looks like.”