The Safe Bet (Hidden Truths #1)(74)

As she rounded the corner and the cafe came into view, she saw his tall, muscular frame. It was unmistakable.

“You shaved your beard,” she teased.

Connor rushed toward her and scooped her into his arms, hugging her. “So good to see you.” He set her down and pinched her cheek like she was his kid sister. “Glad we could meet up. When I heard from Julia you were living in Boston I thought I’d give you a call. I just finished a job.”

“Hopefully it wasn’t another kidnapping case,” she joked.

“No, a basic bodyguard assignment.” He motioned for her to have a seat at the nearby table. “I went ahead and ordered you a drink,” he said, sliding a latte across the table.

“Thanks. So, how have you been?”

“Pretty good. How about you?”

She thought about how to answer his question. She wanted to ask him about Michael. She was desperate to know how he was doing, but she was too afraid to ask. Plus, she knew she would set herself up for pain. “I’m adjusting to my new life.” She rubbed her cheek. “I opened the paternity test a week ago. I was relieved to discover David is my father.” She exhaled after her admission. It was the first time that she’d said those words aloud.

“Are you talking to him yet?”

“No. I don’t think I’m ready for that. It’s a bit of a challenge to forgive him after what happened. I’ve seen my stepmom a few times, and she keeps trying to convince me to see him. But I need more time.” She cleared her throat and forced a smile to her face. “Anyways, I think I’ll be staying in Boston for a while. I’m running my company in Boston only. I gave up my position in New York and put my New York loft up for sale.”

He smoothed a hand over his clean-shaven face. “And you’re happy here?”

“I’ve been focused on putting together the Mayor’s Ball. Kind of crazy that I’m working with Erick Jensen on this whole thing, but it has helped keep me busy.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he responded with a firm voice. “I’m worried about you.”

So am I. “I just don’t know if being an event planner is all that fulfilling anymore.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll quit altogether, someday. I sort of feel . . . adrift.”

He studied her for a moment before responding. “I know the feeling. When my time was up in the military, I had no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. My father wanted me to run his business, but that’s definitely not what I wanted. Thankfully my younger brother is up for the challenge once he’s out of the Marines. But me—I should’ve stayed in the military.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s honestly hard to explain what it’s like to be in the military, to be on a tour of duty and never know when or if your day is up. And to watch people die—to kill people. It’s hard for civilians to understand.” He clasped his large hands on the table. “But in the service, everyone gets it. We’ve all been through it together.” He laughed as if shaking off his heavy comments. “If being in war doesn’t screw with your head, then you must have been pretty screwed up, to begin with.”

“Is it hard for you to be in a relationship? You know, because of your time in the Marines?” She leaned forward, wondering if Michael was the only one with the issue.

He took a moment to drink his latte. “I think it is, for a lot of people,” he responded, without answering the question for himself.

Connor had a wall up almost as high as Michael, she realized. She watched as his eyes narrowed in on a blonde in a short skirt.

He averted his attention back to Kate. “Uh, hmm. Sorry.” His lips curved into a smile. “I’m not ready to settle down.”

“Well, when you think you are, consider moving to Boston. It would be nice to have you here.”

“Do you mind if I tell Michael that I saw you?”

She didn’t know how to answer.

“Kate?” Connor waved his hand in front of her face. “I take that as a no?”

*


Michael sat behind his desk and stared at the computer screen. The numbers were becoming blurry. He couldn’t focus. He glanced over at the time and realized that if he didn’t leave soon, he’d be late.

He hurried out of the office. It was almost four o’clock, but he only needed to walk a few blocks.

He arrived a few minutes after four and apologized to the receptionist. He was always a prompt person, and he hated being late to anything.

“He’s ready for you. You can go on in,” the receptionist said.

He nodded and headed down the long hall and to the office. He knocked on the door and waited for a response before entering.

The doctor rose from behind his desk and walked toward Michael to greet him. “Good to see you. Have a seat.” He walked back to his desk and grabbed a notepad before seating himself in front of Michael.

Michael rubbed his palms against his gray slacks and waited for the doctor to speak.

“So, this is your third week in therapy. Do you feel like you’re making any progress?”

“No,” he said flatly. “I still feel shitty.”

“Because?”

“Because I’m here—instead of with her.”