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As if he wasn’t perfect enough, he also has to have an enviable green thumb.
The more I gaze at the garden, the less tension I feel around my shoulders. I’m finally able to breathe again.
“Leighton, you’re coming?” The moment couldn’t be more right for Marcus to call out to me.
“Yes.” Hurriedly, I slip my dress over my head, smoothing the fabric over my body.
Rylan’s not there when I turn around. Her tall, skinny frame vanishes up the stairs, taking them two at a time gracefully.
“Come on, let’s get to it,” Marcus snaps, curling two fingers and gestures for me to follow him to the garage. “The milk will spoil if we don’t put it in the fridge.”
I’m not sure if this is a code for Let’s have this talk before she’s back, or if it’s really a milk thing. Either way, I haul ass.
I’d hate to disappoint him.
“Coming.” The garage’s concrete floor will be burning at this hour, so I jam my feet into my flip-flops before rushing to him.
As we speed-walk past the kitchen to the door leading to the garage, Marcus looks at me over his shoulder. His black eyes are narrowed, his lips pinched. He’s focused. Resolute.
We must be sharing the same ideas on where we go from here. Ending this beautiful thing that lasted less than five minutes.
I should be relieved. Even if I’m in love with him, I should.
Sigh.
“After you.” He pulls open the door, ushering me inside as if we’re rushing somewhere.
“Uh, thanks.” Ignoring his weird mood, I step inside, descending the three steps to the concrete floor.
The air is dense in the closed garage. Shelves line the walls on one side, packed with paint buckets and hardware stuff. Then there are the cars. Marcus’s metallic blue Lincoln SUV sits idle next to Rylan’s red Mini Cooper. The perfect cars for this perfect father and daughter duo.
This isn’t about the cars.
We need to clear the air.
He stands silent behind me as I consider what’s the best way to approach this awkward conversation. I lace my fingers together at my front, twisting them, wringing out the nerves.
I have to make it absolutely clear that this was just a big misunderstanding. That part is more for my sake than Rylan’s. He has to think I’m not crushing on him. I really don’t want to die of mortification every time I’ll be around him.
He has to think this was a mistake.
I’m quiet, choosing my words carefully. They don’t call Marcus one of the best psychiatrists along the West Coast for nothing. He sees everything. He’ll see through me if I don’t say this exactly right.
If he really wants me, he’ll fight for me. He’ll say he’ll help me with Rylan. And I’ll say yes. A million times yes.
But that’s only in case he wants me.
Deep breath.
“Marcus.” I keep staring straight ahead. The lie would come out easier that way. “We can’t do this. Rylan… I’ll never be able to do this to her. I’m sorry for sending mixed signals, I just—”
A large, warm hand clasps over my mouth, silencing me.
Except it can’t be him.
This man who sticks a needle to my throat can never be the man I admire. The honorable, loving single dad I’m in love with.
But there’s no one else here. And when I turn my eyes to the windshield of Rylan’s Mini Cooper, I see him behind me.
